Fever
by kelbebop-phoebenpiper
Summary: A sweltering dance lesson, a kiss, and the aftermath.  Follows our story, Dancing Lessons.  ChadRyan slash.
1. Chapter 1

**Fever (part 1 of 6)**

"Sorry I'm late," Chad called as he bounded into the empty studio, "You would not BELIEVE the mess--GAH!" He stopped in his tracks as he hit what felt like a solid wall of heat. "What the hell?!"

"Sorry! Sorry!" Ryan called back from the opposite end of the room, where he was scrambling to open windows. "I'm trying to fix it."

Chad walked slowly over to Ryan, breathing heavily in the thick air. "What happened in here? The A/C break or something?"

Ryan shook his head ruefully. "It's my mom's new thing -- Bikram Yoga."

"Bee-WHAT?"

"Bikram. Hot Yoga. As the name suggests, you're supposed to do it in a hot room." Ryan stood at an open window and inhaled deeply of the fresh cool air. "My mom really loves it, but to me it just feels like doing yoga postures in a 105-degree oven."

"So, let me get this straight," Chad said, wiping at the sweat that was already beading on his forehead, "they make the room this hot on purpose?!"

"I don't get it either," Ryan admitted, "but it makes my mom happy, so...y'know." He shrugged. "I totally forgot she was starting the class today, otherwise I would have planned this out a little better."

Ryan usually had the entire dance lesson preplanned and had the music already playing by the time Chad arrived, so Chad wasn't sure if the lesson was still on or not. "So--"

Oh!" Ryan suddenly exclaimed, turning back to Chad from the window. "I just remembered -- I think there are some fans in the storage closet. Help me get them?"

"Sure." Chad followed Ryan to the storage closet to retrieve the fans. "So, our dance lesson?"

"Um...well...that sort of depends," Ryan said, wiping at his own brow with the towel that hung over his shoulder. "I don't think there are any other rooms available. Obviously we can't do it here."

Chad shrugged. "Why not?"

Ryan laughed incredulously. "You're kidding, right?"

"Well, it's not like I've never sweat before."

"True," Ryan had to concede.

"And anyway," Chad continued, "we've got the fans now, so we'll be fine." As if to illustrate his point, he crouched in front of one of a large box fan and switched it on, sighing contentedly at the breeze that instantly cooled his face.

He heard a muffled noise behind him and turned to see Ryan, trying hard to stifle a laugh.

"What?" Chad asked, wanting in on the joke.

But Ryan just shook his head, looking embarrassed. "It's nothing." He quickly turned away and went to plug in another fan across the room.

Chad would've followed him, but he didn't want to leave the coolness of the fan just yet.

"C'mon," Chad called out, his voice sounding warped as it traveled through the fan. "You gotta tell me -- what's so funny?"

Ryan chuckled but still refused to answer. "Forget about it," he said, walking back over to Chad.

Chad raised his eyebrows questioningly. "You laughin' at me?" Ryan grinned sheepishly, shaking his head. Liking the reaction he was getting, Chad continued in his best DeNiro: "You laughin' at me? You laughin' at ME?" Ryan started laughing harder as Chad pretended to look around. "Well, I'm the only one here, so you MUST be laughin' at me."

"Okay, okay," Ryan said, one hand raised in concession, the other holding his belly as he continued to laugh heartily. "I confess! I was laughing at you."

Chad wondered what was so funny about someone cooling himself off in front of a fan. "Why?"

Ryan turned sheepish again as he admitted, "'Cuz the fan was blowing your hair back...and you kinda looked like a dog sticking his head out a car window. You know, with his ears blowing back and that happy look on his face."

"Like this?" Chad stuck out his tongue and pretended to pant, which made Ryan laugh again.

"Yes, exactly."

Chad grinned. Ryan didn't seem to laugh all that often, and it was nice to hear. Sure, they had fun when they were working together on these dance lessons, but he had never seen Ryan have a good belly laugh like this.

And for some reason, it made Chad really happy to know that he'd brought on such a reaction from his friend...even if it was at his own expense.

"C'mon, give it a try," Chad said, grabbing Ryan's wrist and pulling him down in front of the fan. "We shouldn't let the dogs have ALL the fun."

Ryan smiled and closed his eyes as the cool breeze hit his face...and blew the cap from his head.

"Whoops," Ryan said, turning to go retrieve it, but Chad pushed off Ryan's shoulder as he straightened to run. "You stay there. I'll get it."

Chad took two steps away from the fan...and the wave of heat hit him again. Maybe Ryan was right and they should just cancel their dance lesson today.

But Ryan seemed in SUCH a good mood, and Chad didn't want to let it go to waste. So he scooped up Ryan's cap, which he noted was already a bit wet from sweat, and said, "C'mon, Evans, let's get this PARTY STARTED!"

Ryan turned away from the fan, grinning. "You're sure in a good mood today," he noted.

Chad nodded -- perhaps Ryan's high spirits were infectious. He handed Ryan back his hat and offered a hand to help him off the floor.

"Well," Ryan mused, getting to his feet, "I don't think we'll last too long in this heat, so something slow and easy? Or instead maybe we could review the salsa steps from Tuesday? It's certainly _caliente_ enough for that!"

"Sounds good to me."

"Good. I'm too lazy to teach you something new today anyway." Ryan said with a wink. He slowly stretched his arms above his head and yawned to illustrate his point.

"Dude, don't do that!" Chad objected good-naturedly. "Now you're gonna get ME started!" And sure enough, as soon as he said it, he was hit with the uncontrollable urge to yawn.

Ryan started laughing again as Chad yawned widely, dissolving into giggles as Chad found himself caught in a seemingly never-ending "yawn loop."

"'s not funneh!" Chad protested in a yawn, which of course sent Ryan into new paroxysms of laughter. Soon Chad found that Ryan's laughter was just as contagious as his yawn, and he too was laughing until he feared he would never catch his breath.

The fit of momentary insanity seemed to pass, and Chad took a deep breath, brushing the tears from his eyes. He looked up at Ryan, who was palming away tears from his own flushed cheeks. But the instant their eyes met, both boys started laughing again.

"I'm...so...sorry!" Ryan eventually managed to squeak. "Once I get started...it's...hard...to stop!"

"Dude...it's okay!" Chad wasn't sorry at all. He couldn't remember the last time he had laughed so much. It felt good.

Finally, Ryan seemed to regain his composure, inhaling and exhaling deeply through his nose to slow his breathing. "Well, that was quite a workout," he said, holding his belly. "How about we take five?" Ryan asked, sitting down on the wooden floor.

Chad chuckled as he joined Ryan on the floor. "'Take five'? We haven't even started dancing yet!"

Ryan shrugged, pulling two bottles of water from his bag. "Well, I need to rehydrate," he said, tossing one to Chad. "We've got to replace all the sweat we've lost."

"And tears, too," Chad said, noticing how Ryan's cheeks were still glowing from his recent giggle fit.

Ryan grinned at him. "If only there was some blood, we could have a '70s R&B band."

Chad chuckled, shaking his head. He couldn't believe Ryan had cracked a joke, albeit a bad one. This was definitely not the driven, hardworking Ryan Evans that he had come to know through weeks of dance lessons.

Which was not to say that he wasn't enjoying THIS unguarded and silly Ryan! Usually he seemed so composed...more like an adult in a teenager's body. It was nice to see Ryan acting his age for once. Chad resolved to bring this side of his friend out more often.

"Dude, what's with you today?" Chad teased.

Ryan shrugged, lying down onto the wooden floor, his knees bent. "I don't know. I think the heat is getting to me." He yawned again, stretching his arms out across the floor above his head, and his yellow-striped polo shirt rode up to reveal a white undershirt beneath it.

"No wonder you're hot," Chad said. "How many shirts are you wearing?"

Ryan lifted his head from the floor to glance down the length of his own body and then shrugged. "I always wear an undershirt," he said, dropping his head back to the floor.

"Even if it kills you?" Chad asked incredulously. "C'mon, it's hotter than the Sahara in here -- you should take off your shirts, or at least one of them."

Ryan propped himself up on his elbow, a lopsided grin on his face. "'Why, Mrs. Robinson, are you trying to seduce me?'"

Chad stared blankly back at his dance teacher. "Dude, who's Mrs. Robinson?"

Ryan just laughed and shook his head, sitting back up and stripping off his polo shirt. "There," Ryan said, tossing the damp shirt at Chad, "are you happy now?"

"Ecstatic," Chad teased, "I've always wanted one of your preppy shirts all covered in sweat." He tossed the shirt back at Ryan.

"Preppy?!" Ryan widened his eyes in mock indignation as he replaced his hat firmly onto his head. "Them's fightin' words, Danforth. To avenge my tattered honor, I challenge you...to a DANCE-OFF!" he announced, jumping to his feet.

Chad threw his hands up in concession, laughing. "No way, dude. I forfeit. You win."

"What?!" Ryan exclaimed. "I do not believe what I am hearing! Is Chad Danforth backing down from a challenge?"

"Chad Danforth knows when to cut his losses and run," he chuckled, with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Bawk-bawk-bawk!" Ryan clucked. "Oh, I know! I can teach you the CHICKEN dance!" He strutted circles around Chad.

"If you're trying to get a rise out of me, Evans, it won't work," Chad smirked. "Anyway, it's too hot for that." To illustrate, he pulled his sticky t-shirt away from his chest to let the air cool his skin.

"Fine," Ryan sniffed. "I guess I'll just dance here all by myself." He pressed "play" on the CD player, and a lively salsa number sounded from the machine.

And then Ryan started dancing, swiveling his hips in time to the rhythm, even trilling out a shrill "_Arriba_!" as he joyfully lost himself in the beat.

"Okay, stop...STOP!' Chad laughed, leaning over from where he sat and pressing "stop" on the CD player. "Just WATCHING you is making me hot."

Ryan stopped in place and arched an eyebrow. "Oh really?" he asked provocatively, languidly drawing out every syllable.

Under Ryan's suggestive gaze, Chad blushed despite himself. He had meant the statement innocently enough -- just watching his friend exert all that energy in this sweltering room, moving quickly in time to the fast salsa beat, was making Chad sweat.

But now that he thought about it, the way Ryan moved -- the way his hips gyrated, the way his damp undershirt clung to his chest -- WAS kind of hot in a mesmerizing way.

Just like when Ryan played baseball.

Although it had been weeks since they had played that first baseball game together, Chad could still remember it as if it were yesterday. There had been something about Ryan that day -- his graceful athleticism and self-assured attitude -- that Chad had found truly captivating, making it difficult to concentrate on his game. Of course, Chad had merely dismissed it at the time, chalking it up to the thrill of competition. Afterwards, he didn't give it a second thought.

Until now.

Chad cleared this throat uncomfortably. "I just mean…all the physical exertion…it's too hot in here for that." As he stammered through his sentence, Ryan just stood there grinning.

'What's your problem, dude?' Chad chastised himself. 'Get a grip!'

With renewed resolve, Chad hopped to his feet, stating definitively, "It's too hot for salsa. We gotta do something slow today."

Ryan looked at Chad doubtfully. "Slow?"

"Sure," Chad said, his own confidence returning as all thoughts of Ryan's gyrating hips faded away. "It's just like at track practice -- on days when it's sweltering, Coach knows that there's no point in having us run, so we just lift weights for practice instead."

Ryan gave Chad a weird look. "So you think slow dancing is like weight lifting?"

"Sure," Chad said. "It's gotta be cooler than salsa, right?"

Ryan shrugged, heading over to the CD player. "We'll see about that." He flipped through his CD's until he found something that looked good. Putting it in the player, Ryan hit a few buttons, remarking, "This'll be perfect."

Chad didn't know what he had been expecting – maybe something soppy and orchestral – but it wasn't this. The song started simply and softly, with only a bassline and finger snaps. Even when the vocalist began singing, she was restrained and cool. It wasn't Chad's style of music, by any means, but he had to admit that it was kind of sexy.

Ryan strode confidently over to Chad, turning his newsboy cap backwards. "This is a slow foxtrot," he stated, grabbing Chad's left hand and moving Chad's right hand to the small of his back, placing them in standard ballroom position.

Which put them in extremely close proximity to each other. Chad now realized why Ryan had looked skeptical -- standing in each other's arms was hardly a cooler way to spend their lesson.

But Chad decided it was too late to back out now. He had insisted on dancing slow, and that's what he was going to do.

If only he could remember the steps.

"Foxtrot…," Chad repeated, trying to ignore the heat radiating off of Ryan's sweaty body as he searched his memory for the dance steps. "Um…is that step-together-step?"

At the look of disappointment on his teacher's face, Chad quickly corrected himself, "No wait! I remember now -- it's slow-slow-quick-quick."

Ryan nodded, smiling, and Chad felt relieved. "Whenever you're ready," Ryan encouraged.

Chad awkwardly stepped off, coming down hard on Ryan's foot. Ryan quickly pulled away, hunching over his injured foot with his back to Chad.

"DUDE, I am SO sorry!" Chad stepped around Ryan to face him, but he couldn't see the other boy's face. "I guess I stepped in the wrong direction. Are you okay?" He put a hand on Ryan's shoulder, which felt like it was...shaking?

Chad realized that Ryan was laughing.

"Um...Evans?"

"I'm okay, I'm okay," Ryan assured as he looked up, waving Chad off. Sitting back on his haunches, he admitted, "I guess I forgot that YOU were leading."

Chad frowned, trying to figure out what had happened. "Wait, so I didn't do anything wrong?"

"And now," Ryan intoned in what Chad had come to think of as Ryan's 'teacher voice,' "we see what happens when two partners try to lead at the same time." Ryan laughed and shrugged. "Oops, my bad."

Chad was relieved that it hadn't been his fault, but he still felt bad that he'd hurt Ryan. "Is your foot gonna be okay?"

"Oh, sure. It's not like you were wearing stilettos or anything."

Chad glanced down at his Nikes, confused.

"I swear," Ryan continued, "Shar only wears those things so she can do the maximum amount of damage."

"Oh! Your sister!" Chad exclaimed, finally deciphering the comment.

Ryan laughed. "What did you THINK I meant?"

Not having a good answer, Chad forcefully grabbed Ryan and pulled him back into ballroom position. "C'mon, let's just dance."

"Lead on," Ryan smiled, adding sheepishly, "and I promise to actually follow this time."

Chad nodded his head, first in response to Ryan and then in time with the music, trying to find a good place to start. Finally, once he felt comfortable with the rhythm, he began dancing, making sure his first step was light, just in case he stepped on Ryan's foot again. Luckily he didn't, and before he knew it, they were dancing effortlessly across the floor.

"You're doing great," Ryan said in his teacher voice. "But you've got to stop looking at your feet."

Chad frowned. "Then where SHOULD I look?"

Ryan shrugged, a motion Chad saw in Ryan's shoulders yet felt in Ryan's back. "It depends on WHY you're dancing."

Chad didn't follow. "Huh?"

"Well," Ryan explained, "if you're dancing to perform, then you want to look out -- to connect with your audience. But if you're dancing to...you know, just DANCE, then you want to look in your partner's eyes."

Knowing that he probably wouldn't be performing this type of dance any time soon, Chad looked up and met Ryan's eyes. Chad was worried that he wouldn't be able to remember the steps without looking at his feet, but somehow he was continuing to dance. He smiled, pleased with himself for having come so far in only a few weeks. Ryan smiled back, and Chad noticed for the first time how the corners of Ryan's eyes crinkled when he grinned. He also noticed how pale Ryan's eyes were...and how they were staring at him meaningfully...

And how it suddenly seemed MUCH warmer in the room.

"Dude, I can't do this anymore." Chad shook his head and took a step back from his dance partner, trying to cool down by putting more space between him and Ryan's warm body. It occurred to him that he'd be a lot cooler if he was shirtless. As Chad reached for the bottom hem of his sweaty t-shirt, he noticed that Ryan's smile had completely disappeared. In fact, the other boy now looked almost sick.

"You okay?" Chad asked in concern, pulling his shirt off over his head. "You need more water?"

Ryan's expression was now one of utter confusion, and Chad wondered if the heat was getting to him. Chad bent to pick up Ryan's water bottle from the floor. "Here," he said, handing his friend the bottle. "Your face is all red -- you better drink some."

"Uh...th-thanks," Ryan stammered, accepting the bottle with a nod of his head. He removed his hat and set it gently on his bag before leaning his head back to take a long drink of water. Next he poured water into his cupped hand and splashed it onto his face. Then, to Chad's amusement, Ryan shook his head briskly, sending droplets of water flying in all directions.

"NOW who looks like a dog?" Chad laughed as he tucked his shed t-shirt into the back waistband of his shorts.

Ryan grinned widely at Chad, seemingly revived by the cool water. "You know what they say – when in Rome..."

"...shake like a dog after a bath?" Chad joked, happy to see that the other boy was feeling better.

Ryan groaned at the quip, giving Chad a playful shove. "_Mr. Danforth_, I believe that kind of comment calls for swift and severe punishment," he said in an exaggerated parody of his teacher voice. He actually sounded a little like Ms. Darbus, Chad noted with an involuntary shudder.

"So what'll it be, _Mr. Evans?_" Chad teased. "Detention? Dunce cap? Lines on the blackboard?"

Ryan grinned wickedly, a gleam in his eyes. "Worse. Oh, SO much worse."

"Bring it on, Evans." Chad fell back into a defensive martial arts pose and flashed a cocky smile. "Bring it ON."

"If you insist." Ryan crossed his arms over his chest to grab the hem of his white undershirt. Then, with surprising speed, he yanked the shirt off over his head.

Well, Chad certainly wasn't expecting THAT. He stared at Ryan, speechless.

Ryan, however, was still putting on a performance. He whipped the shirt in circles above his head and tossed it across the room with a grand flourish, declaring in a booming voice, "Gaze upon my dazzling whiteness, IF YOU DARE! Bwa-ha-ha-HA!"

Chad was suddenly struck by the complete and utter absurdity of the situation. He wasn't entirely sure, but he thought that the sight of a half-naked Ryan Evans doing supervillain poses in the yoga studio at Lava Springs ranked pretty high on his "weird shit I've seen in my life" list.

Not that he wasn't enjoying it. In fact, this was definitely the most entertaining, if least productive, dance lesson yet!

And Ryan hadn't been exaggerating -- his chest was the palest shade of white Chad had ever seen. But it was also lean and toned -- obviously, Ryan's yoga workouts, while not exactly turning him into Arnold Schwarzenegger, were definitely keeping him fit. No wonder he could pitch a baseball so well -- underneath his dancer's exterior, he had the muscles of a real athlete.

All these observations came to Chad in an instant, right before he playfully shielded his face from the sight of Ryan's chest, crying out melodramatically, "My eyes! My eyes!"

Ryan grinned. "See, that's what you get if you don't behave," he taunted.

Chad couldn't help but raise the ante. "That's it?" he challenged. "So what happens if I don't behave AGAIN?"

Ryan raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips in a sinister manner as he considered the question. "I think the next step would be blinding you with my equally white legs…followed, perhaps, by some sort of water torture out at the pool."

"Ooh -- poolside torture!" Chad said, pretending to shiver in his shoes. "Wouldn't Gabriella frown on that sort of thing?"

Ryan shrugged. "I'm sure I could pay her to look the other way."

"Hey, money can't buy you everything, you know," Chad laughed. "And Gabriella's MY friend, too."

"But how GOOD a friend? Would she help you move dead bodies?"

"I can move my OWN dead bodies," Chad said, doing a muscle man pose, "'cuz I ain't SCRAWNY like some people."

Ryan gasped melodramatically. "Okay, this means war," he teased, reaching for the waistband of his pants. "It's time for the pasty leg torture."

"Oh no! Not the legs!" Chad teased. Suddenly the whole situation made that Nelly song start playing in his head and he couldn't help but sing aloud: "'It's gettin' hot in here, so take off all your clothes.'"

Ryan instantly stopped what he was doing and stared blankly at Chad.

"Dude, you don't KNOW that song?!" Chad asked, shocked.

"That's a REAL song?" Ryan asked, aghast.

Chad shook his head. "Welcome to the 21st century, man -- maybe you should start listening to some REAL music," he said, gesturing towards the CD player that was repeating the same slow foxtrot yet again.

"This is Peggy Lee!" Ryan squeaked indignantly, his voice comically high-pitched. "This is a CLASSIC!"

Chad hadn't expected such a raw reaction, and he quickly tried to backtrack. "I'm just saying that maybe you should listen to some NEW stuff, too." Chad was relieved to see Ryan's defensiveness start to dissipate, and suddenly he was struck with an idea. "Hey, I know -- I'll make you a CD of some good stuff. You know, kind of EASE you into the 21st century music scene."

Ryan looked bemused. "You're gonna make me a mix CD?"

"Sure," Chad said, already starting to think about what songs he wanted to share with Ryan. "It'll be good for you -- 'expand your musical horizons', as Ms. Darbus might say. Who knows -- you might find that you like some of it."

"Okay," Ryan agreed warily, "but only on one condition."

Chad couldn't resist the urge to tease again; he pretended to cower, saying, "No, PLEASE don't show me your pasty white legs."

Ryan shoved Chad playfully. "No, you dork! I get to make YOU a mix CD, too."

"Of what -- showtunes?!" Chad made a sour face. "Maybe I'd PREFER your pasty legs."

"Hey!" Ryan said, shoving him again.

"Showtunes suck!" Chad stated matter-of-factly as he playfully returned the shove. "I should know -- I've heard my mom play 'Phantom of the Opera' about a zillion times."

Ryan scowled. "Andrew Lloyd Webber?" he said with disgust. "No WONDER you hate showtunes! But believe me, there are tons of GOOD shows out there. I'll definitely be able to change your mind."

"Oh yeah?!" Chad challenged.

Ryan grinned and nodded smugly. "Just you wait! I will make an entire CD of showtunes that you'll like. Correction...LOVE."

"No way," Chad scoffed.

"Hey, don't count me out before I've even tried!" Ryan argued, adding confidently, "You know how persuasive I can be. I got you to dance in the talent show, didn't I?"

Chad nodded weakly, reluctant to concede the point.

"In fact, I'm so persuasive, I've got you coming back for dance lessons twice a week." Ryan crossed his arms, clearly satisfied the matter was settled.

"Yeah, but for WHAT?!" Chad teased, pointing out, "We haven't gotten ANYTHING done today."

Ryan's eyes widened as he laughed, "Hey, that's not MY fault! YOU'RE leading!"

"Yeah...well...you're teaching!"

Chad frowned. The argument had sounded a lot stronger in his head.

Ryan didn't answer; he merely smirked, just as he had standing on the pitcher's mound at the employee baseball game.

And just as HE had on that day, Chad was suddenly struck by the overwhelming desire to wipe that smug grin off Ryan's face. Even if it meant dancing in this sweltering room.

"C'mon," Chad ordered, putting a hand on Ryan's bare shoulder to lead him back to the center of the room. "Let's do this."

Ryan nodded in bemused agreement but stubbornly refused to move his arms until Chad manipulated him into ballroom position.

Chad counted silently to himself as he waited for a good musical entrance, then stepped off confidently, leading his partner in a competent foxtrot. For the first time all evening, neither boy spoke; instead, the shirtless pair wordlessly glided across the floor to the music. Suddenly remembering Ryan's instruction to not look at his feet, Chad raised his eyes to meet Ryan's and found his teacher smugly smiling back at him. Chad shut his eyes so he could concentrate on the beat without the visual distraction, determined to dance well despite Ryan's goading.

After a moment, Ryan laughed aloud, breaking the silence. Chad cursed under his breath as he mis-stepped, annoyed with himself that his concentration was so easily broken

Unable to get back on the beat, Chad came to a complete stop, growling, "WHAT?!"

"I told you I could be persuasive." Ryan said matter-of-factly, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

At Chad's glare, Ryan laughed. "I'm just teasing! You're doing great, really!"

Chad shook his head. "Whatever, man."

"No, really," Ryan said earnestly. "You're dancing beautifully today. You just need to RELAX!"

"I AM relaxed," Chad lied, becoming more aware of the tension in his shoulders as he said it.

Ryan stepped back from Chad, their hands remaining in ballroom position. "Look at yourself! You're rigid as...well...um...actually...to tell the truth, I don't know how to finish that sentence without it sounding dirty," he admitted bashfully, adding, "But look – you're all stiff!" Ryan squeezed Chad's tense shoulder for emphasis and then demonstrated what he wanted by rolling his own shoulders around loosely. "Loosen up! We don't have an audience; it's just you and me. Try to relax and have some fun!" He smiled at Chad encouragingly.

Chad noticed that the room was suddenly silent, save for the gentle whir of the CD player cycling back to repeat the track.

"Ooh, and here's the perfect opportunity," Ryan chirped, "The song's starting again." He nodded at Chad, who immediately took the cue, pulling Ryan close again.

As Chad repositioned his hand to the small of Ryan's bare back, he was suddenly struck by how different this felt. Although a cotton t-shirt was only millimeters thick, he suddenly realized how much of a barrier it truly was. With nothing between his hand and Ryan's skin, he could feel every muscle move, every tendon stretch, even though they hadn't yet started dancing.

Again, the finger snaps and bassline sounded. Again, Chad stepped off, leading Ryan in a slow foxtrot. Again, it took him a few steps before he remembered to look into Ryan's eyes.

Yet this time, it was completely different. It was suddenly as if all his senses had been heightened, and Chad was now uncomfortably aware of every small detail of the boy he held in his arms.

He could see the faint freckles on Ryan's nose. He could smell the spicy, clean fragrance of the soap Ryan used. He could feel the droplets of sweat gently trickling down Ryan's spine.

He could also hear the sultry lyrics, which Ryan was smoothly moving in time to:

_"Never know how much I love you, never know how much I care._

_When you put your arms around me, I get a fever that's so hard to bear."_

And he now could see how pink Ryan's lips looked against his pale face.

When later pressed for an answer, Chad would shrug and claim he had no idea what had made him kiss Ryan Evans on that sweltering mid-August evening. But truthfully, the reasons were plenty.

The kiss only lasted a few seconds, but it seemed like an eternity to Chad. His senses still on overdrive, he could taste the salty sweat on Ryan's mouth. He could feel the softness of Ryan's lips. He could hear the music, playing on:

_"You give me fever -- when you kiss me, fever when you hold me tight."_

And he could feel the startled intake of breath as Ryan gasped and pulled back.

Chad opened his eyes and saw a dozen emotions playing across Ryan's face: shock, surprise, confusion, disbelief. And eventually comprehension. Followed by delight. And raw desire.

Before he knew it, Ryan was kissing him, and for an instant, those same emotions Chad had just witnessed on the other boy's face raced through his own mind.

When he arrived at 'raw desire,' Chad forcefully pulled Ryan closer to him, wrapping his other arm around Ryan's back. With their bare chests now tightly pressed together, Chad could feel Ryan's heart hammering. He could hear Ryan's shallow breathing. He could feel...

Suddenly, Ryan's tongue was in his mouth. Startled, Chad took a step back...and found himself falling. Chad instantly let go of Ryan, his arms flailing out as he tried to catch his balance, stepping back awkwardly over the corner of the box fan which had just come crashing to the floor.

The thunderous clatter reverberated throughout the room. As it faded, Chad noticed the lyrics to the song once more:

_"Fever -- till you sizzle, what a lovely way to burn."_

"Hey Chad," Troy's voice sounded in the doorway. "I knew I'd find you here,"

Chad jumped and turned around. "Hey," was all he could answer, still in a daze from what had just happened.

"So some of those U of A guys dropped by, and they totally want to play a quick pick-up game. You in?"

"I..." Chad's dumbfounded mind couldn't even form a coherent thought, let alone speak one.

Walking over towards his friend, Troy didn't seem to notice that Chad was dazed. Instead, Troy merely looked past him, continuing, "That is, if Ryan doesn't mind if you cut your lesson a little short today."

Chad quickly turned at the sound of Ryan's name and saw the blond boy hurriedly righting the fallen fan. "Yeah, that's fine," Ryan mumbled, not even looking up.

"Man, how hot is it in here?" Troy asked, wiping his hand across his now-sweating forehead. "No wonder you guys have your shirts off." Turning back to Chad, he said, "C'mon, dude. We gotta hurry, or else they'll start without us." He patted Chad on the shoulder and turned to leave.

Though Chad didn't comprehend a single word, something about Troy's tone made him nod and mindlessly follow his friend across the room.

"See ya later, Ryan," Troy called out as he and Chad stepped out the door, leaving Ryan alone in the hot studio as the opening bassline and finger snaps sounded once more.

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	2. Chapter 2

**Fever (part 2 of 6)**

"Ducky!"

Ryan had never been so happy to see his mother. He had spent the last half hour searching all over Lava Springs for her and had finally found her back in the very first place he'd looked -- the club's exclusive dining room.

"Where have you been, sweetie?" Mrs. Evans asked as he approached, reaching up to ruffle his still damp hair. "We missed you at dinner."

"I was...taking a shower."

Mrs. Evans looked concerned. "Did you get any food? The kitchen is still open."

At his mother's mention of food, Ryan's stomach gurgled as if to remind him he hadn't eaten since lunch. "Food would be great!"

"Then let's you and I grab our table and get you some food.", she said, taking her son's hand and starting to walk him across the dining room. "How does that sound?"

Ryan nodded and smiled -- his mom always knew how to make him feel happy and loved.

Which is what he needed right now, after the evening that he'd had.

Not that it had all been bad. The dancing lesson had been a blast, despite the heat of the room. Ryan couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed that hard. And the extreme heat had made him so giddy that he'd actively been flirting with Chad. FLIRTING! He had even gone so far as to jokingly threaten to "torture" Chad by stripping down to his underwear, a threat which, on second thought, didn't really make much sense to him.

And then Chad had taken off his shirt, and Ryan had thought it couldn't possibly get any better.

Yet it had. For then Chad had kissed him. Chad Danforth, jock extraordinaire, pride of the Wildcats, had KISSED him!

And then it had all come crashing down, just like the box fan that Chad had knocked over trying to get away. Ryan had gone too far, and now he had ruined EVERYTHING!

Even the yoga that Ryan had attempted after Chad fled hadn't helped to soothe either his troubled mind or his fevered body. Eventually he had sought solace in a cold shower in the Members Only locker room.

A LONG cold shower.

And now, after much searching, he was finally with his mother, and she was going to feed him and console him and tell him that everything was going to be okay.

Holding hands, they walked through the half-empty dining room, heading straight for THEIR table. When the entire Evans family dined together, they always sat at a large table in the center of the room, happy to see and be seen. But whenever Ryan needed a few moments to talk to his mom alone, they always chose the same corner table, far from the madding crowd, where they could quietly share a dessert or even an order of fries while they discussed their days.

"Mrs. Evans."

Ryan turned and recognized Sharpay's favorite former lifeguard hurrying over to them.

"Javier," Mrs. Evans greeted warmly. She then turned to her son, saying, "Ryan, you remember Javier? He was a lifeguard for us last summer. But did you know that he's studying physical therapy at U of A? I can't believe we almost let all that untapped potential go to waste."

Ryan nodded, forcing a smile. He knew his mother was the head of the Board here at Lava Springs, and, as such, she had a lot of responsibilities; but couldn't the employees let her have a little time alone with her son?

But it wasn't Javier who was prolonging the conversation.

"And Javier, did you know that Ryan is going to be a senior at East High in the fall? He's already starting to look at colleges. I know that he'd love to go to Yale Drama School, but I don't think I could bear having my Ducky that far away from me." Mrs. Evans reached her arms around Ryan and gave him a hug, saying, "You know, dear, you and Javier should get together to talk sometime -- maybe he can convince you to stay here in Albuquerque for college so I won't have to lose you quite so soon."

Ryan hadn't really been paying that much attention to what his mother was saying, but a thought suddenly occurred to him -- was his mother trying to set him up with Javier?!

If so, what was she thinking?! This was the LAST thing Ryan needed to deal with this evening!

Luckily, Javier just nodded politely, saying to Ryan, "U of A's a great school -- you should consider it." He then turned back to Ryan's mom, all business, and said, "Actually, Mrs. Evans, I need to discuss with you some of the therapy room assignments for next week."

Mrs. Evans nodded to him and then turned back to her son, patting Ryan lovingly on the shoulder before unwrapping her arms from him. "Why don't you go grab our table, darling? I'll be with you in a moment."

Ryan went and took his customary seat, exhaling a weary sigh. He had been on such a physical and emotional rollercoaster during the past few hours, and now, settling into the cushioned chair, each triumph and upset seemed to weigh equally heavy upon him. He was exhausted, body and soul.

Ryan set his elbows on the table and rested his chin in his hands, feeling too tired to even hold his head up. He glanced over his shoulder to where his mother and Javier were talking, silently willing their conversation to end so that she could join him and he could tell her of his evening.

Whenever something bad happened to Ryan, his first impulse was to talk with his mother. And whenever something good happened to Ryan, his impulse was the same. Therefore, after a day of such dizzying highs and lows, he felt an almost overwhelming urge to tell her every last little detail -- both good and bad.

For the past several weeks, it had been their ritual: Ryan would meet his family for dinner Tuesday and Thursday evenings following dance lessons. After dinner, he and his mother would move to their corner table for some quality alone time. Mrs. Evans would order their favorite dessert to share and hold her son's hand, listening attentively as he told her everything. She had smiled with delight as he told her of the time Chad had affectionately called him "Ry." She had laughed at his demonstration of Chad's "jazz hands." She had thrilled to his descriptions of every lingering glance, every touch, every in-joke he had shared with Chad. She never teased him or discouraged his enthusiasm; in truth, she seemed nearly as excited about Ryan's lessons with Chad as RYAN was.

Which made it all the more maddening for Ryan tonight to have to sit and watch his mother converse animatedly with Javier over some stupid administrative issue. Wasn't that Fulton's job?! Frustrated, he settled back in his chair, drumming his fingers impatiently on the tabletop.

After a moment, Ryan realized that he had been absent-mindedly drumming out a foxtrot rhythm with his fingertips: slow-slow-quick-quick-slow. He closed his eyes, and he could almost hear Peggy Lee's sultry voice singing about burning fever. He could almost see Chad's smiling face as he looked deep into Ryan's eyes. He could almost feel Chad's hand on the small of his naked back...Chad's lips pressed gently against his...Chad's arms pulling him close to deepen the kiss.

That kiss...

Ryan smiled at the memory. He had often imagined what it might feel like to kiss Chad Danforth, but the reality was even better. Not even in his wildest dreams did Chad kiss HIM! In fact, Ryan had been so shocked that he had pulled away. Pulled away! Was he INSANE?! Of course, it only took a moment for Ryan to come to his senses and kiss Chad back. And then, Chad had wrapped his arms around Ryan, hungrily pulling him closer, and suddenly they were the only two people in the world.

No matter what had happened later, in that moment...or was it moments? Ryan had no idea how long they had actually kissed. It could have been days, for all he knew. The only thing he did know...the only thing that mattered...was that, in that moment, Chad wanted him. Chad WANTED him!

And he had wanted Chad. Completely. With every fiber of his being.

Which is why he had gotten greedy. He hadn't even thought about what the other boy might want; instead he had only thought of himself -- his own needs, his own desires. So he had pushed Chad too far, too fast.

And Chad had cut and run. He'd left without even a word.

Ryan knew that nothing would ever be the same between them again.

Ryan was furious with himself for having been so selfish. Why hadn't he just been happy with what he had? Ryan often teased his sister for never being satisfied, for always wanting more, more, more. And now he was guilty of the same thing.

Not surprisingly, due to their own selfish actions, both Evans siblings had come to similarly disastrous ends this summer. Sharpay had lost Troy, lost the Star Dazzle award, and alienated her country club clique as well as her schoolmates. And now Ryan had lost Chad, the only thing he had truly cared about this summer.

"I am SO sorry, Ducky!"

Ryan opened his eyes. "'S okay, Mom," Ryan said, turning his cheek upward to accept her kiss as she joined him at the table.

"You know how it is. If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself!"

Ryan chuckled ruefully. "Ain't that the truth?"

Mrs. Evans frowned in concern as she laid a hand on Ryan's cheek. "You look exhausted, sweetie. And it's not like you to miss dinner." She ruffled his hair affectionately. "Did it get too hot in the studio for you?"

'You have no idea,' Ryan thought, before saying aloud, "Yeah, scheduling a dance lesson immediately after a bikram yoga class probably wasn't the smartest move on my part."

"Well," she said thoughtfully, "maybe you and Chad can move your dance lessons to another room. I can check the schedule for you, if you like? I'm sure there's an open room somewhere that you two could use."

The realization hit Ryan like a swift kick to the stomach. He had no idea if there would even BE another lesson. Let alone if Chad would ever speak to him again.

But Ryan couldn't tell his mother about that yet...not until he had filled her in on everything else that had happened. So he merely shrugged noncommittally, hoping it would suffice for an answer.

It obviously did, for she continued, "Well, we can worry about that later. You must be starving!" She raised her hand to summon a waiter to the table.

Ryan turned to order...and found himself looking up at Chad! What on earth was he doing here?! Wasn't he supposed to be playing basketball with Troy?

Chad certainly didn't look comfortable having to wait on Ryan. In fact, he looked about as uneasy as Ryan felt.

"Oh, good evening, Chad," Mrs. Evans greeted cheerfully.

Chad tensely nodded, trying to be polite. "Good evening, Mrs. Evans." Chad then nodded at her son, refusing to meet Ryan's eyes as he said, "Mr. Evans."

"Ryan has been telling me all about your dance lessons."

Ryan jerked his head around to stare in horror at his mother, unable to stop her before she continued, "He says you're a fast learner and are really coming along nicely."

Ryan longed for a trap door to swallow him up.

Chad seemed to be feeling the same way, for he awkwardly stammered something vague about Ryan being a good teacher and then quickly asked, "So what can I get you two this evening?"

Although Ryan had been starving only a moment before, suddenly he felt sick to his stomach. What must Chad be thinking right now? That Ryan had rushed off to give his mom a play-by-play of how the "recruiting" was going? If Chad hadn't hated him before, he surely did now.

"I'll just take a latte," Mrs. Evans said. Then, turning to her son, she asked, "And what'll you have, sweetie?"

Ryan realized that the sooner he ordered, the sooner Chad would go away. But the instant he turned back to the waiter, he noticed how stiffly Chad was standing, and suddenly Ryan couldn't say a word.

'I told him he was stiff!' Ryan's mind was screaming at him, remembering the conversation during the lesson. 'And then we kissed, and I...oh my GOD! Let me just die now!'

Ryan jumped as he suddenly felt his mom's hand on his. "Ducky, are you okay?"

'No,' Ryan thought, turning back towards his mom but saying nothing.

Through the chaos in his head, Ryan heard his mother ordering for him, "He'll just take some macaroni and cheese and a glass of root beer." Ryan's comfort foods -- his mom must've recognized his distress.

"Uh, I don't think macaroni and cheese is on the menu," he heard Chad's voice say behind him, but Ryan continued to stare blankly at the table, trying his best to disappear.

"Oh, that's no problem," Mrs. Evans explained, looking over Ryan's shoulder to talk to the waiter. "Just tell Chef Michael -- he knows exactly how Ryan likes it."

Chad must've walked off then, for Mrs. Evans looked back at her son, a worried expression on her face. "Honey, what's wrong? You look positively green." She then must've made the connection between Chad's discomfort and Ryan's distress, for she asked, "Did something happen during your dance lesson today?"

"Hello, my loves!"

Ryan jumped at the sound of his father's voice behind him. Mr. Evans crossed over and kissed his wife in greeting before turning to Ryan, asking in bemusement, "No hat today, son?"

Ryan merely shrugged in answer.

His dad reached over, affectionately ruffling his hair. "Well, it'll probably do you some good to give the old noggin some air for once."

Ryan realized that it wasn't only his noggin that needed some air -- with all that was happening, he was finding it difficult to catch his breath.

"Is your meeting over so soon, darling?" Mrs. Evans asked her husband.

Mr. Evans shook his head. "Just taking a quick break. So I thought I'd stop by and see how my beloved family is doing."

Ryan was worried that his mom might mention something about how upset he was, but Mrs. Evans was discrete. "We're fine. Ryan's just getting a late dinner, and I'm keeping him company. Isn't that right, Sunshine?"

Ryan smiled and nodded, relieved that she hadn't said anything. The last thing he wanted to do was to include his dad in this conversation. After all, he had never really shared things with his dad. There was so much that Mr. Evans didn't know, and Ryan wasn't prepared to bring his dad up to speed just yet.

Glancing at his watch, Mr. Evans said, "Well, I'd better be heading back." He kissed his wife on the cheek, saying, "I'll just meet you at home, dear. This might go late, so don't wait up." Then, turning to Ryan, he added, "Enjoy your dinner, son. And make sure you get some of the creme brulee for dessert -- it was delicious this evening."

Ryan nodded, saying, "'Night, Dad," the first words he'd spoken since Chad had come to wait on them.

As he and his mom watched Mr. Evans depart, Ryan saw Chad approaching the table with his mother's latte. Ryan felt his heart start hammering in his chest, and he tried to calm himself down, breathing slowly in and out.

As Chad set the hot cup down in front of Mrs. Evans, he said to Ryan, "We're out of root beer. Can I get you something else...Mr. Evans?"

Amazingly, Ryan was able to answer. "Water's fine," he mumbled, unable to meet Chad's eyes.

Ryan's mom took his hand. "Are you sure you don't want something else, Ducky? Some chamomile tea perhaps?"

Ryan shook his head, repeating, "Water's fine."

Out of the corner of his eye, Ryan saw Chad nod and leave.

"Something happened between you two, didn't it?" Mrs. Evans asked as soon as Chad was out of earshot.

'That's the understatement of the millennium!' Ryan thought. So much had happened between them that he didn't even know where to begin. But realizing his mom expected some sort of answer, he nodded but said nothing.

At Ryan's reticence, Mrs. Evans launched into a motherly version of Twenty Questions.

"Did you two have a fight?"

Ryan shook his head, but then, after considering the question further, he shrugged. It hadn't been a fight per se, but the way things had ended, it might as well have been.

"Did he do something to upset you?"

Ryan sighed and wearily leaned his forehead upon his hand, which she interpreted as a yes.

"Was it something he--thank you, Chad," Mrs. Evans interrupted herself to address the waiter. Ryan immediately sat back in his chair, moving his elbows off the table so Chad could set down the plate of baked macaroni and cheese and the glass of water in front of him.

"That will be all," Mrs. Evans said in an uncustomarily dismissive tone, and Chad left.

Ryan knew that his mom was only being short with Chad because she assumed he had upset her son. In truth, it was Ryan who had upset Chad. And now, Ryan's inability to explain what had actually happened was making things even worse. Mrs. Evans was blaming Chad for something he hadn't even done, giving Ryan yet another reason to feel guilty.

'This evening can't get any worse,' Ryan thought to himself, burying his face in his hands.

"THERE you are!" Sharpay said, her shrill voice announcing her arrival to the entire dining room. Ryan quickly lifted his face from his hands, not wanting his sister to see how distressed he was. However, one look at his plate told her everything. "Macaroni and cheese? Aw -- did wittle Wyan have a bad day?" she asked in a baby voice, ruffling her brother's hair. Her tone changed abruptly as she added with frustration, "Well, let me tell you about MY day!"

Without waiting for an invitation, Sharpay grabbed a chair from the next table and wedged herself between the pair before launching into The Trials and Tribulations of Sharpay Evans.

"Did you know that no one has ANY respect for the sanctity of the yoga studio?!"

If Ryan hadn't felt so despondent, he would've shared an amused look with his mother at this ironic statement. Until this summer, Sharpay had been the poster child for "disrespect for the yoga studio". But after the debacle with the midsummer talent show and the loss of Troy Bolton as her summer pet project, Sharpay had found herself with a lot of time to fill. One day, with nothing better to do, she had begrudgingly joined her mother and brother in a yoga session. But instead of finding it to be a calming influence, Sharpay had found it to be a new outlet for her competitive spirit. Ever since, she had devoted all her energies into being the "most dedicated" yoga practitioner in the entire country club.

"Today during our session," Sharpay went on, "Jackie's boyfriend walked in and started talking to her. TALKING to her! When we were all trying to salute the sun! I tried to let him know how rude he was being, but then the yoga instructor had the nerve to tell ME to keep my voice down!" Sharpay let out a loud, frustrated sigh, shaking her head at the memory.

"Inside voice, Kitten," Mrs. Evans suggested, putting a quieting hand on her daughter's arm.

Not that Sharpay paid any attention. "And then Lea spent the entire session talking about YOU." Sharpay turned so suddenly towards Ryan that it made him jump,

"Lea?" Ryan asked blankly, trying to remember which one of Sharpay's three girlfriends she was.

"Yes, apparently Lea has a crush on you. Lord knows why! I told her you were totally not interested -- you're NOT, are you?!"

Ryan shook his head and took a sip of his water, completely bewildered by this turn of events.

"Good," Sharpay said, "because you could SO totally do better. I mean, Lea can be great...as back-up. But she's no 'star', if you know what I mean." She smiled at her brother. "And, of course, MY brother deserves a 'star'."

Ryan blinked, unable to believe they were actually having this conversation.

"Oh, but I think it's sweet," Mrs. Evans said, smiling warmly at her son. "My dashing boy has an admirer."

"It's NOT sweet, Mother! Believe me! If you had to listen to her all day, going on and on about 'Ryan looks so cute in his new hat' and 'will Ryan be joining us by the pool today' and 'do you think Ryan would give ME private dance lessons,' you'd want to shoot yourself, too!" Sharpay rolled her eyes in disgust. "'Dance lessons,'" she repeated scornfully, using air-quotes to emphasize her point. "We all know what THAT means."

Ryan suddenly saw a hand reach over his shoulder to top up his water glass, and he realized that Chad must've heard Sharpay's last comment. And Ryan could only IMAGINE how Chad would interpret it: not only had Ryan rushed off to tell his mother all the juicy details, but he'd told the "Ice Princess" as well.

Of course, that was the furthest thing from the truth. And Ryan wanted to tell Chad so, to reassure him that he hadn't told Sharpay a thing.

But he didn't get a chance.

"Chad, where's MY water?" Sharpay demanded.

"Right away, MISS Evans," Chad said, putting a caustic stress on the 'Miss' that Ryan couldn't help but notice.

"So anyway," Sharpay continued unabated, "I'm at my wit's end about this entire Lea situation. I mean, Ryan's ALL she talks about. Puh-LEASE! I told her that if I wanted to discuss Ryan all the time, I'd just talk to Mother." Sharpay then smiled sweetly at her mother, adding, "No offense, Mommy."

Mrs. Evans patted her daughter on the arm reassuringly. "None taken, Pumpkin."

"I'm doing all I can to discourage her," Sharpay went on, "but I can't take much more of this! I mean, if I have to spend one more second--"

"Hey Sharpay!"

The three Evanses all turned at the cheerful girlish call.

"Don't look!" Sharpay spat, but it was too late -- the red-headed girl was already half-way to their table.

"Hey Sharpay," the girl repeated, "I've been looking everywhere for you. And Mrs. Evans -- you're looking lovely this evening."

Mrs. Evans smiled. "Oh, how sweet -- thank you, Lea."

The redhead then turned towards Ryan, her voice and demeanor suddenly becoming bashful and demure. "Hi, Ryan." As she looked at him, her expression changed to one of confusion. "You're not wearing a hat," she said thoughtfully, as if she were deducing the solution to one of the world's great mysteries.

Sharpay rolled her eyes in annoyance, saying sarcastically under her breath, "Brilliant, Sherlock!"

But Lea didn't notice Sharpay, for she only had eyes for Ryan. "You know, Ryan, you have really great hair. It's so...blond. You should show it off more often."

Under her adoring gaze, Ryan felt like a deer in the headlights. He stammered an uncomfortable "Th-thanks," hoping that she would go away.

But no such luck. "Do you mind if I join you three?" Lea asked hopefully.

"Actually," Sharpay said sharply, standing up so quickly that she almost knocked over her friend, "I was just going to go take a quick dip in the hot tub." Smiling sweetly at her friend, she asked, "Join me?"

Lea smiled hesitantly, looking back and forth between the two Evans twins, unable to choose between her best friend and her crush.

Noting her indecision, Sharpay snapped impatiently, "C'mon!" Her tone immediately softened as she pleasantly added, "Let's go, Lea."

Sharpay put her arm around Lea's shoulder and started to usher the girl away. After only a few steps, she turned back towards her brother, hissing quietly under her breath, "You SO owe me, Ry!"

Ryan watched the two girls leave, feeling almost dazed, and then turned back to his mother, who was looking at him with concern.

"You haven't touched your dinner, Ducky," she said, nodding towards the plate of macaroni and cheese still sitting untouched in front of him. "Why don't you eat up before it gets cold?"

Ryan stared down at his plate. Usually when he was distressed, he found it comforting to dive into a plate of mac and cheese. But with all that had happened, the sight of it was almost making him nauseous. At this point, the only thing that could comfort him was baring his soul to his mom.

"Mom, I blew it," he blurted out. "It was all my fault, and I just don't know what to do."

Mrs. Evans nodded, her forehead creased with worry, but she said nothing, allowing him to continue uninterrupted.

But as Ryan observed the look on her face -- a combination of unconditional love and motherly concern -- he realized just how disappointed she'd be when she learned what he had done, and he simply couldn't go on. Ruining things with Chad had been tragic, but disappointing his mother would be even worse.

So, stalling for time, Ryan reached for his glass of water...

...and spilt it all over the table!

Both he and his mother jumped, startled. Ryan quickly stood up, planning to grab some napkins from the next table, and promptly collided with Chad, who was just arriving to sop up the mess.

"'Scuse me," Chad said, head down, as he placed a clean napkin on the table to start absorbing the water. He then attempted to corral all the loose ice cubes back into the glass as Ryan just stood there, helplessly watching.

Chad's quick response to the mess had not merely been fortuitous, for Mr. Fulton arrived at the table only a moment after Chad.

"Thank you, Mr. Danforth," he said pointedly, obviously having ordered Chad to the table. Glancing at the now-drenched cloth that Chad was using, Mr. Fulton added, "Perhaps you'll need MORE napkins, Mr. Danforth."

As Ryan was already standing, he quickly grabbed the napkins from the next table and handed them to Chad, who took them with a curt nod. Then, realizing that there was nothing more he could do, Ryan awkwardly sat back down to the strains of Mr. Fulton's latest aggravation.

"Mrs. Evans, I need to discuss with you a very serious topic." Mr. Fulton adjusted his glasses. "It's about member-employee fraternization."

Ryan stared wide-eyed at the beady-eyed man as he continued: "As you probably know, Mrs. Evans, Kitty Fraser is..." Mr. Fulton trailed off, obviously looking for a suitable euphemism to use in front of the head of the Board as well as two teenage boys.

"Fraternizing?" Mrs. Evans offered helpfully.

Mr. Fulton nodded. "Yes, 'fraternizing' with her tennis instructor...again...on the tennis court...after hours!"

Ryan involuntarily shuddered. He had known the Frasers his entire life. To imagine Mrs. Fraser having sex was bad enough. But to be talking about it in front of Chad, after what had happened between the two of them today during their lesson -- it was almost more than he could stand.

Mr. Fulton cleared his throat nervously and continued. "And I wouldn't mention it, Mrs. Evans, except that we simply cannot AFFORD to lose anymore tennis instructors this summer. After all, this late in the season, we're very short-staffed all around. In fact, I had to pull Mr. Danforth here directly out of a basketball game tonight to work the dining room when all THREE of my waiters called in sick."

Ryan looked up at Chad. 'So that explains why he's still here,' Ryan thought, seriously contemplating hunting down the three waiters who had "called in sick" and making sure that they all got fired.

But Mrs. Evans was handling all of the news surprisingly well. "I'll have a talk with Kitty," she said dismissively, "and remind her to be more...discrete."

"It's not just a matter of discretion, Mrs. Evans," Mr. Fulton said, "it's a question of the club rules. They clearly state that fraternization between members and employees is simply not allowed." Mr. Fulton adjusted his glasses nervously again before adding, "The immediate dismissal of the employee is the usual outcome...and this will be the THIRD tennis instructor for Mrs. Fraser this summer."

But Ryan was barely listening, for his mind was racing. If people found out what had gone on that evening during Chad's dance lesson, Chad could get FIRED! And if Chad didn't completely hate him already, that would certainly clinch the deal.

Which meant that he could NEVER tell his mother about it! True, they hadn't actually "fraternized", but Ryan doubted that would matter. As the head of the Board, Mrs. Evans would certainly go out of her way not to show favoritism to her son and would have to fire Chad.

No matter what his mother was saying now about "mere guidelines" and such.

"Hey, Chad."

Everyone at the table turned to see Jason, drying his hands on his apron as he came out of the kitchen.

"Your ride's here," he explained before heading back toward the kitchen.

Chad nodded and turned to Mr. Fulton. "I need to go?" His statement sounded more like a question.

Mr. Fulton immediately nodded, saying, "That will be fine, Mr. Danforth. I appreciate you filling in tonight. And don't forget to clock out."

As Ryan watched Chad scoop up the drenched napkins and head back towards the kitchen, he was suddenly overcome by a wave of panic. True, Ryan had been avoiding Chad all evening, not knowing what to say to him. But now that Chad was leaving, he desperately wanted to talk to him. Ryan wanted to let him know that he was sorry that he had gone too far. And he hoped that they could still be friends. And, no matter what, he would never tell anyone about what went on between them in the yoga studio that afternoon.

And then maybe, just maybe, Chad wouldn't hate him forever.

But now it was too late. Chad was out of the dining room, on his way home. Ryan had missed his opportunity to apologize and set things straight. Once again, he had blown it!

"Ducky?"

Ryan turned back around, surprised to find that Mr. Fulton had already left.

Mrs. Evans smiled warmly at her son. "I'm so sorry for all these interruptions. But hopefully we won't have any more," she said, gesturing to the now empty dining room. "So, Ducky, why don't you tell me what happened?"

"Nothing happened," Ryan said, staring down at his cold, untouched plate of macaroni and cheese. Then, putting on his best impression of someone calm and collected, he explained, "I'm just so tired, I kind of freaked out over nothing."

Nothing that he could ever tell her about.

**END OF PART 2**


	3. Chapter 3

**Fever (part 3 of 6)**

After almost an entire summer of working as a lifeguard at the Lava Springs country club, Gabriella Montez had come to realize that the best part of her job was not getting to sit in the sun by the pool all day, or getting to watch Albuquerque's elite flirt and gossip poolside, or even getting to see the look of wonder the first time a toddler put her face in the water. Surprisingly, Gabriella had come to realize that the BEST part of her job was in the early morning, before the club was even open, when she got to clean the pool.

HER pool, as she had grown to think of it. She took great pride in keeping her pool free of leaves and debris and keeping the poolside neat and tidy, with every towel neatly folded, every deckchair in place. Gabriella had even overheard two longtime members commenting one day about how the pool seemed so much more pleasant this summer; this was exactly the type of feedback that encouraged Gabriella to work even harder, the memory of it warming her heart as she cleaned her pool early on Friday morning.

Another thing that made morning cleaning duty so enjoyable was Ryan Evans. Most days the blond boy would catch a ride to the club with his mother, who regularly had morning meetings. Since nothing else at the club was really open then, Ryan would come and hang out with Gabriella while she worked.

Not that he ever offered to HELP her. Even on days when there were tons of deckchairs to unstack or large tree branches to remove from the pool, Ryan would just stand next to her, blithely chatting away as she struggled to do things herself. At first, Gabriella had found this behavior quite infuriating and a little bit out of character, considering how polite Ryan usually was. But it had slowly dawned on her that, in fact, it was completely IN character. Having grown up privileged, Ryan had probably never had to do manual labor of any kind, so the thought of voluntarily offering to do such work would never even occur to him. So now Gabriella was merely bemused by his seeming ungentlemanliness. While she doubted she would be so forgiving of the same behavior from anyone else, coming from Ryan it was almost endearing.

And while Ryan didn't help her, he also didn't flaunt the fact that his parents owned the club. He never ordered Gabriella around like his sister did when she held court poolside. Sharpay tended to treat Gabriella -- indeed, ALL the Lava Springs staff -- as her own personal servant, there to serve her every need and desire.

As much as she hated to admit it, though, Gabriella was actually grateful to Sharpay for having acted so horribly at the beginning of the summer. If Sharpay hadn't tried to steal Troy away, if she hadn't forced him to sing with her in the talent show, if she hadn't alienated her own brother, Gabriella might never have befriended the Evans boy. But now that Gabriella had, she couldn't imagine her life here in Albuquerque without him.

Not that EVERYONE had been that thrilled about their friendship at first -- in fact, Troy had been a total jerk about it. But Troy had been a jerk about EVERYTHING back at the beginning of the summer. And after all the things that went down with Sharpay, it was no wonder that Troy was a little wary about her twin, especially when Ryan had suddenly seemed to sweep into Gabriella's life the instant Troy was momentarily out of the picture. But as Troy had gotten to know Ryan better at their weekly Wednesday night get-togethers, he'd slowly come to accept Ryan as one of the Wildcat gang, just as everyone else had. However, Gabriella could still sense a twinge of jealousy on Troy's part whenever Ryan put his arm around her.

Which, now that she thought about it, was quite often. It was weird -- having grown up without her father around, Gabriella had never really been physically affectionate with a guy before Troy. But from the instant that Ryan and Gabriella had become friends, they'd both felt very comfortable being cuddly with one another. Not in any sexual way -- she didn't thrill at his mere touch the way she did at Troy's. Instead, Ryan was more like the brother she'd never had. And she imagined that she was like the sister HE'D never had, since Gabriella doubted that the "Ice Princess" was one for physical affection.

Though from the things that Ryan had shared, maybe Sharpay wasn't quite as cold as everyone thought. Gabriella was actually surprised at how caring Ryan's sister seemed to be sometimes.

Nevertheless, she wasn't planning on inviting Sharpay to their weekly get-togethers any time soon.

"Miss Montez."

Gabriella jumped at the sudden voice behind her, almost dropping the skimmer into the pool.

"Oh, good morning, Mr. Fulton," Gabriella said, quickly recovering and smiling at him.

Mr. Fulton nodded, surveying the pool. HER pool. "Everything looks great this morning, Miss Montez -- keep up the good work."

Gabriella smiled, pleased to get a compliment from her manager. "Thanks," she said as she watched Mr. Fulton walk off towards the tennis courts.

Gabriella was about to turn back to her pool cleaning when she saw Ryan wandering out of the poolhouse.

"Ryan!" she called cheerfully, not even caring if Fulton heard.

Ryan nodded in response and started to head her way.

Even from a distance, Gabriella could tell something wasn't quite right. Ordinarily, Ryan walked with a determined gait, head held high, with a dignified air, as if he owned everything around him.

Which, here at Lava Springs, he kind of did.

But today, Ryan's shoulders were hunched. His hands were deep in the pockets of his colorful shorts. His head was down. And his hat...

For the second time in as many minutes, Gabriella almost dropped the skimmer in the pool. She couldn't believe what she was seeing! For the first time since she'd known him, and possibly even the first time in his life, Ryan Evans's hat did not match his outfit!

Something was definitely wrong.

As Ryan approached Gabriella, it was even more apparent. His normally-fair complexion looked downright pale today. That is, except for the dark circles under his eyes. And instead of his usual megawatt grin, Ryan offered only a wan smile as he greeted her. "G'morning, Gabs."

"Hi Ryan. Rough night?"

"Uh..." he hesitated for a moment before finally nodding. "Yeah. Didn't get much sleep last night."

"Yeah, I can tell," Gabriella teased, "You look terrible."

Ryan chuckled self-deprecatingly. "Contrary to popular belief, boys need their beauty sleep, too." He gestured to himself. "As is made PAINFULLY clear by my appearance today."

"It's okay," Gabriella soothed, patting Ryan on the shoulder. "Even the debonair Ryan Evans is entitled to an off day."

She playfully lifted the brown-plaid golfing hat off his head and held it in front of his eyes. "But as your friend, I simply CANNOT let you wear this today -- not with those purple board shorts. After all, you have a reputation to maintain."

Ryan took the hat from her, mindlessly turning it over in his hands.

Gabriella laughed. "Didn't you know that's what you were wearing?" she teased. "Did you get dressed in the dark or something?"

Ryan shook his head. "No...I...it doesn't matter," he said, absently putting the hat back on his head.

Gabriella took ahold of Ryan's hand, concerned. "You seem more than just tired -- are you okay? You seem kinda...down."

"I'm fine," Ryan sighed. When Gabriella raised a doubtful eyebrow, he forced a smile, insisting, "Really."

Gabriella didn't believe him, but clearly he wasn't in a mood to talk about it. So she turned back around and resumed skimming her pool, trying to get one last leaf that continued to elude her.

"So do you have any plans for this weekend?" Gabriella asked, hoping to get Ryan to open up as he sat down on a nearby deckchair.

Ryan shook his head. "Not really." He laughed, adding, "SLEEPING, hopefully."

Gabriella laughed. "Yeah, you could definitely use it. You should've just stayed home and slept in this morning. Or done some yoga -- that always makes you feel better, right?" The elusive leaf finally caught, Gabriella hung the pool skimmer on its hooks and then turned back to Ryan. "There's nothing to stop you from going to do that now, is there? I'm sure the yoga studio is--"

"No!"

Gabriella jumped at Ryan's strong response, glad that the skimmer was no longer in her hands.

He immediately softened his tone, continuing, "Not the...I mean...it's just... I can't..." He trailed off into a despondent sigh. Then, almost to himself, he added, "Though maybe I could find someplace else."

Gabriella nodded encouragingly, putting her hand on his shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. "I'm sure you can find someplace to go do yoga." She smiled down at him. "I really think you could use it. Go, find your center."

Ryan considered it a moment and then nodded, taking her proffered hand to help him stand. He then kissed it, saying, "Have a good morning," before walking away.

Gabriella watched him go, once again noting his hunched shoulders and his almost shuffling walk. True, her friend looked tired, but clearly something else was wrong as well. And why had he been so jumpy about the yoga studio -- that was the one place where Ryan always felt relaxed.

'If only he'd confide in me,' Gabriella thought, concerned about her friend. She knew that it always made HER feel better to discuss her problems with someone she trusted, so she figured it would make HIM feel better as well.

But he wasn't talking. And she didn't have the time to try to drag it out of him, for the first swimmers were already starting to arrive.

Gabriella did a quick visual scan of the pool area, checking one last time to make sure everything was in place, and caught sight of Taylor waving at her from the poolhouse. At Gabriella's return wave, Taylor hurried over to meet her at the lifeguard station.

"Hi Gabi!" Taylor greeted cheerfully. Flipping pages on her ever-present clipboard, she added in a businesslike tone, "I just wanted to let you know that your 9:00 am water aerobics class got pushed back to 9:30."

"No problem," Gabriella nodded. "It's not like I have somewhere else to be."

Taylor then did her own brief examination of the area -- obviously checking to ensure Fulton wasn't in earshot -- and leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, "You haven't seen Chad this morning, have you?"

Gabriella shook her head, whispering back, "I haven't seen him since yesterday afternoon." Chuckling, she added, "And why are we whispering?"

Taylor shot another quick glance around the pool. "Something is up with that boy," she stated, no longer whispering.

"What do you mean?"

"So, he calls me last night...at 11:30! My mom was pissed! I got the full-on 'no calls after 10 o'clock on a work night' lecture this morning." Taylor rolled her eyes at the memory.

"11:30?" Gabriella shrugged. "Okay, so that's a little weird. But not unheard of. Maybe he didn't realize how late it was."

"That's not all!" Taylor insisted. "We're going on a date."

Gabriella's jaw dropped. "By yourselves? That's a first. So how'd he ask you?"

"He didn't -- he just went all monosyllabic on me, grunting about how we were going out tonight and that he'd pick me up at 7:00. He didn't even ask me. He TOLD me."

"That doesn't sound like Chad at all."

"I know! And he was just...I don't know...WEIRD. I thought he was joking at first, so I kinda teased him about it, but then he got all defensive." Taylor shrugged. "I only agreed to go to shut him up."

Gabriella frowned as she realized, "But he doesn't have a car!"

"Apparently he's going to 'work something out' -- maybe borrow his mom's car?" Taylor shook her head as she rolled her eyes. "I don't know. The way he was acting, I wouldn't be surprised if he picked me up on his skateboard and threw me over his shoulder."

Taylor suddenly gasped, and Gabriella looked out toward the tennis courts, where she saw Mr. Fulton pointing at his wristwatch and scowling.

"Shit!" Taylor exclaimed, clutching her clipboard to her chest as if it would shield her from their manager. "I better go. Talk to you later?"

Gabriella smiled. "Yeah. See you around."

Taylor scurried away, leaving Gabriella alone at the lifeguard station. She climbed up into her chair, thinking about Ryan's depression and Chad's weirdness. Could they be related?

At first, she simply tried to put two and two together. But the more she thought about everything, the more she realized that simple arithmetic would not suffice. This was a full-fledged algebra problem in multi-dimensional space, with a matrix of equations and several variables:

Something was wrong with Ryan -- that was a given. But what was bothering him? And why had he acted so weird when she'd mentioned the yoga studio?

The yoga studio -- where he and Chad had had their dance lesson yesterday evening.

After which Chad was acting weird. And defensive!

But why call Taylor and demand a date after months of being evasive? A date -- yet with no car and no plan.

And why had he called her so late at night? What was he doing up so late?

And why hadn't Ryan gotten much sleep last night? Was he up late, too?

Surely all these things must be related, but the only solution Gabriella could come up with was that Ryan and Chad had had a fight during their dance lesson. But if so, why hadn't Ryan simply told her about it? It wasn't as if she didn't tell HIM about every minor spat she had with Troy. And why would a fight make Ryan so jumpy about the yoga studio? And what did it all have to do with Taylor -- Ryan and Taylor rarely interacted one-on-one, though, truth be told, CHAD and Taylor rarely interacted one-on-one either. Could the fight have been about Taylor? But if so, why would that make Ryan so jumpy about the yoga studio?

Gabriella sighed. This was getting her nowhere.

She was suddenly reminded of a day last April when the math sub had miscopied the algebra problem onto the chalkboard. Gabriella had spent a full ten minutes going in circles, plugging one equation into the next and always coming back to xx. Finally, she realized that some of the information was missing: there were four variables but only three equations. That meant that she could have gone in circles FOREVER and never come up with a single solution, for a single solution simply didn't exist with the limited information given.

And that's what this was like. While she had plenty of facts that she knew must be interconnected, she still was missing some information.

So Gabriella turned her attention back to her pool while her mind continued to churn quietly in the background. The next hour passed uneventfully, her water aerobics class came and went, and she returned to her lifeguard stand afterwards, unaware that her brain had been working on solving the problem the whole time.

In fact, she didn't even realize how distracted she was until she almost forgot to do one of her "most important" duties: to angle Sharpay's chaise towards the sun on the hour. Of course, if Sharpay had actually BEEN in the chaise at the time, she surely would've reminded the petite lifeguard. But the blonde girl and her followers were nowhere in sight, which was a good thing, since Gabriella was almost ten minutes late to her task.

Luckily, she got them angled just in time, for mere moments later Sharpay and her friends appeared.

And Sharpay did not seem to be in a particularly good mood -- she was barking at her friends in a tone more stormy than usual.

"That's it!" she said as she angrily tossed her towel down on her chaise. "I'm not doing yoga with you three any more!"

Sharpay and yoga? Ryan had told Gabriella about his sister's current obsession, but it still seemed to be such an incongruous pairing.

Gabriella glanced around her pool from her lifeguard chair, keeping a curious ear on the conversation below.

"I SAID I was sorry," the middle girl apologized, obviously for the zillionth time, as she sat down next to the other two girls facing Sharpay. "I've told Jeremy not to disturb you -- I mean US, disturb US -- when we're doing yoga, but he must've just forgotten."

"And maybe he's 'just forgotten' about the fact that I can get his membership revoked!"

All three girls gasped at Sharpay's harsh comment, covering their mouths in shock.

"I'll…uh…remind him again as soon as I see him," the girl said nervously, hoping to placate Sharpay.

"And I'll remind you, Jackie," the blonde wannabe added helpfully, patting her friend reassuringly on the arm.

The redhead smiled cheerfully as she added, "And I'll remind YOU, Emma."

Gabriella smiled to herself, amused. Wherever had Sharpay found such a trio of mindless sycophants?

Sharpay, however, was far from amused. "While you're at it, Lea, remind YOURSELF that I don't want to hear any more about my brother. How many times do I have to tell you -- he's NOT interested!"

Gabriella's ears suddenly perked up, turning her full auditory attention to Sharpay and her girls.

"But you don't KNOW that," Lea said, clearly hoping she was right.

Sharpay dashed those hopes with a simple statement. "Yes I do -- I asked him last night."

"Oh."

'Last night?' Gabriella wondered. Could this be the missing information that she had been waiting for?

No, she determined after a moment's thought -- though it WAS interesting.

And something that she'd definitely have to tease Ryan about later. Gabriella figured he wouldn't be exactly thrilled about attracting the attention of one of Sharpay's minions, especially the dumbest one, which was really saying something in this group. But of all the girls, Lea definitely seemed to be the furthest from his type.

Though, now that Gabriella thought about it, she really didn't know what his type WAS. In all the conversations that she'd had with Ryan, she couldn't remember him ever mentioning anyone he was crushing on. Or him ever talking about any models or movie stars, other than Ashton Kutcher and Orlando Bloom. Or him ever getting distracted by a sexy girl walking by.

That was one of the disadvantages of being a lifeguard: most of her conversations with male friends happened poolside. Because of this, Gabriella found it nearly impossible to keep their full attention because their eyes were constantly following every bikini-clad girl that walked by. Gabriella had even caught Troy unconsciously checking out a girl or two. But not Ryan. Never once had his gaze wandered towards a pretty girl, never once had his head turned to stare at a tanned thigh or a bare midriff.

Though she did suddenly recall one occasion when she herself had been distracted by the sight of a tanned Adonis crossing the pool deck, and noticed that Ryan too had lost the ability to complete a sentence.

'I am such an idiot,' Gabriella thought to herself, mentally slapping herself on the forehead. 'Why didn't I see it before?'

'Ryan is clearly gay!'

"But Ryan's always so nice to me." Lea's words suddenly penetrated the thoughts screaming in Gabriella's head.

"Oh, Ryan's nice to EVERYONE!" Sharpay said with disgust. Nodding her head up at the lifeguard stand, she added, "He's even nice to the STAFF!" Sharpay then turned a sweet smile up to Gabriella, her voice becoming sugary. "Oh hi, Gabriella -- I didn't see you there."

Usually a comment like that would've made Gabriella's blood boil, but now she barely noticed it because her mind was racing.

'The clothes. The hats. The sparkles! What OTHER boy at East High has a color-coordinated outfit for every occasion?'

Gabriella shook her head and chided herself, 'No, no, that's a stereotype. You shouldn't buy into stereotypes. Just because he has a unique fashion sense, that doesn't mean anything!'

But there was also the whole theatre thing...Drama Club...choreographing the winter musical!

'STEREOTYPE!' Gabriella's mind screamed at her again. Anyway, Troy STARRED in the winter musical, and she knew without a doubt that HE wasn't gay. Right?

Though Troy had proudly displayed his jazz hands during their big finale.

And, come to think of it, Troy did like those new Italian shoes and fancy clothes, too.

Gabriella chuckled to herself. No, there was never any doubt about Troy, despite these "signs". There was no missing the barely-concealed hunger in his eyes every time he looked at her. The spark of electricity she felt at the slightest touch...

Whereas, with Ryan, it was always so easy and comfortable. That sexual tension just didn't exist. It always felt completely natural for her to snuggle up to her friend, laying her head on his shoulder while they chatted about whatever crossed their minds. She didn't get butterflies in her stomach when Ryan tipped his hat or kissed her hand, because somehow she must've known that he wasn't interested in her in THAT way.

But for some reason, she had never put it together until now. And now that she had, everything seemed to fit neatly into place. Their heart-felt conversations, their cuddly demeanor -- Gabriella was comfortable being his close friend because she knew she'd never be his girlfriend.

So now everything made sense.

Except for what was going on today.

Could this "new" fact that Ryan was obviously gay have anything to do with his glum demeanor this morning?

Gabriella dismissed this idea, laughing at herself for being so obtuse. She suddenly felt like one of those stupid math students who gets distracted by meaningless facts in word problems, trying to somehow use every number in the paragraph to come up with the solution. Being gay was not new to Ryan - it was just new to HER. And the fact that she had only seen the light today didn't mean that Ryan's sexuality was in any way related to his depressed state.

Or Chad's weird behavior.

Which meant that she was still trying to figure out today's mysteries when she left the pool to go take her morning break.

Walking inside to clock-out, she was happy to find Troy by the time cards.

"Just taking your break, too?" she asked cheerfully, giving him a peck on his cheek.

But Troy shook his head, looking sheepish. "Just getting here, actually. I have to go set up for my junior golf lessons -- you can come help me if you want."

Gabriella laughed. "Just how I wanted to spend my break."

"Yeah, but at least you get to spend time with ME." Troy continued, looking at her with puppy dog eyes. "Remember me? Your boyfriend?"

"Okay, okay," Gabriella agreed. After all, he was right -- they hadn't gotten to spend much time together lately, with both of them working so hard at the club. They'd planned to hang out yesterday after work, just some romantic one-on-one time, but then he'd been dragged into a basketball three-on-three and they'd had to postpone. So even though she only had fifteen minutes to spend with him, it was certainly better than what they'd had last night.

Following Troy out to the driving range, she inquired, "So how did the basketball game go last night?"

Troy shrugged. "Which one? The three-on-three or the two-on-two?"

Gabriella frowned in confusion, and he nodded as he handed her golf clubs one by one to set out for the lessons.

"Yeah, about twenty minutes into the game, Fulton came out and dragged Chad off to go work the evening shift in the dining room."

"Poor Chad!" Gabriella then quickly corrected herself, "And you, too -- sorry you had to lose him from the game."

"Actually, it wasn't much of a loss." Troy looked sheepish as he admitted, "I was almost kinda glad to see Chad go. I mean, that was the worst game of hoops Chad's played in YEARS! His head was SO not in the game!"

"That's too bad," Gabriella said. "Maybe he was just having an off day?" There was that phrase again -- hadn't she said something about an "off day" to Ryan this morning? Gabriella's mind suddenly started churning again as she collected this new data about Chad.

"Chad Danforth has never had THAT much of an off day," Troy said. "And it wasn't just his shooting...or his rebounding...or even his defense -- he was in a...weird mood, too."

"'Weird' how?" Gabriella inquired.

Troy considered it a moment before answering. "Well, he started off really out of it, like he was in a daze or something. Physically he was there, but mentally he was miles away. But then, the more he played, and the more he kept screwing up, the more defensive he got."

"'Defensive'? That doesn't sound like Chad."

Though hadn't Taylor mentioned that, too? Maybe it DID sound like Chad.

"Yeah, I'm telling you, it was weird. HE was weird." Troy shrugged. "Which is why I wasn't all that broken up about him being dragged off by Fulton." Troy then smiled, boasting, "But after he left, Zeke and I totally kicked some Redhawk butt!"

"Go, Wildcats!" Gabriella said cheerfully as she pondered Troy's words, her mind going back to Chad again. "Chad wasn't like that earlier in the afternoon, was he? Weird, I mean? Actually, now that I think about it, I saw him yesterday afternoon at break, and he was in a really good mood. You know, how he always gets before his dance lessons with Ryan."

Troy's mind made a connection. "Maybe THAT'S why Chad was weird -- maybe he was still overheated by his lesson and that just threw him off his game."

"'Overheated?'" Gabriella repeated, her mind already starting to make some of its own connections.

"Yeah, the yoga studio where they were having their dance lesson was like super-heated or something. Like an oven. No idea why. Maybe the A/C was out or something. I just know that both of them had their shirts off and were totally sweating in front of the fans when I came in." Troy laughed. "And I just gotta say, Ryan is damn white! Like, VAMPIRE white!"

But Gabriella wasn't really listening, for this latest bit of information was the last thing she needed for her human algebra problem to make sense. And now, like one of the characters on CSI, her favorite TV show, she was able to put all the facts together and deduce a solution.

Earlier, Gabriella had suspected that maybe Chad and Ryan had had a fight during their dance lesson. But according to Troy, they hadn't been fighting -- they'd been SHIRTLESS!

Of course, that fact alone didn't prove anything -- the boys were always playing "Shirts and Skins". And Troy had said that the room had been hot.

The room -- that meant the yoga studio! The place that Ryan usually found relaxing yet had made him jumpy at the mere mention of it this morning.

And Chad had been "out of it" when they started playing basketball, which meant immediately after the lesson. Surely the heat of the room wasn't to blame for him being in a daze -- Chad had played hoops in much hotter weather, with his shirt off no less, without being negatively affected by the heat.

"A putter for your thoughts."

Gabriella blinked, surprised to see Troy standing in front of her, holding out a gold club.

"What?" she asked, trying to wrestle her thoughts back to the here and now.

Troy laughed. "Where were you just now?" he teased.

"I was..." Gabriella trailed off, not knowing what to say. She couldn't exactly tell him about her Ryan revelation -- that was private, something that she could only discuss with Ryan himself. But without that revelation, her line of thought would make little to no sense to Troy. So she shook her head, quickly taking the golf club from Troy and setting it where it belonged. "It doesn't matter."

Troy smiled, taking a step closer to her and putting his hands on her waist. "You're cute when you're distracted," he said, staring down into her eyes with that hungry look again.

Gabriella smiled and leaned towards him, preparing for a kiss, when a loud horn made both of them jump. They looked over to see Taylor driving by in her golf cart, frantically pointing at her watch and then at Mr. Fulton, who was headed their way.

"Oops, gotta go," Gabriella said quickly, giving Troy a quick peck on the cheek before running off to clock back in. But as much as she would've liked a proper kiss from Troy, she was actually happier to be heading back to her lifeguard chair, for now she could be alone with her thoughts.

'Now where was I?' Gabriella thought to herself as she surveyed her pool once again. 'Oh yes -- Chad was in a shirtless daze.'

And Ryan was gay. And also shirtless.

And they had been "sweating in front of the fans," according to Troy. Not arguing, not even DANCING -- just sweating?

Could Ryan have maybe hit on Chad and it freaked him out? Gabriella considered this a moment.

If Ryan HAD made a move on Chad, Chad must've turned him down. Poor Ryan, being rejected like that! That would certainly explain Ryan's depression, his sleeplessness, and his sudden lack of fashion sense.

That could also explain Chad's daze -- she imagined that suddenly being hit on by another guy might make him feel a bit weird and confused.

And Chad had been defensive, too. Gabriella rolled her eyes, remembering how defensive guys could get when their masculinity was questioned in any way.

Which meant that, so far, this possible answer seemed to fit every equation, to explain every fact.

Even Taylor's date! Of course! After months of casually dating, the fact that Chad had suddenly DEMANDED a date last night was surely related to whatever had happened between him and Ryan in the yoga studio. And if Ryan HAD made a move on Chad, it may have made Chad realize how much he'd been neglecting his so-called girlfriend, thus inspiring him to do something about it.

'Or,' Gabriella thought, considering another option, 'Chad may have liked it and was now overcompensating.'

But Gabriella found that hard to believe. Chad was such a guy's guy. He and Troy had been best buds forever. Surely Chad couldn't be attracted to Ryan. Could he?

Suddenly, an image flashed in Gabriella's mind -- the staff baseball game. Chad and Ryan had spent the entire game taunting each other. But it wasn't like the friendly competition that existed between Chad and Troy when they played one-on-one -- the rivalry between Chad and Ryan on the baseball diamond had been ELECTRIC, the spark between them almost palpable. No one could deny that there'd been chemistry between the two boys during that game.

But that had been WEEKS ago. And as far as Gabriella knew, that dynamic tension between Chad and Ryan had ended with the game. Instead, Ryan had gradually become Chad's friend, just as he'd become friends with Gabriella and the other Wildcats.

So it seemed completely out of the blue for Ryan to have suddenly made a move on Chad -- yet it made all the other facts fit together perfectly.

Gabriella sighed. She was slowly coming to the conclusion that human algebra problems were way more difficult to solve than REAL ones. In math class, the variables always acted the same way in every equation -- x always equaled x. But in the human equations, the variables were just too...VARIABLE!

Which meant that, if Gabriella was going to solve this thing, she was going to have to corner one of the variables and make him spill.

And maybe even give him a sympathetic hug, if things had actually gone the way she suspected they had.

Gabriella tapped her foot impatiently on her lifeguard chair, willing the time to move faster. The instant noon arrived, Gabriella rushed off in search of Ryan. She only had a half-hour lunch break, and she was going to need every minute of it if she was going to get Ryan to confide in her. Although Ryan wouldn't talk to Gabriella this morning, she hoped he would open up to her now -- not only to satisfy her own curiosity, but also to soothe his troubled mind.

While Ryan already had a confidante in his mom, Gabriella assumed that another sympathetic ear couldn't hurt.

She finally found Ryan in the rehearsal room, mindlessly tinkering on the piano.

"Hey, Ryan -- let's go have lunch." She made it a statement instead of a question so he couldn't refuse.

He did anyway.

"I'm not hungry."

Gabriella knew this response meant one of two things: 1) he was lying to avoid talking to her, which meant something was wrong, or 2) he really WASN'T hungry, which, for a teenage boy, meant something was REALLY wrong.

"You don't have to eat," she said, dismissing his excuse. "Just come sit with me while I eat."

Ryan glanced nervously towards the door of the dining room, but Gabriella wouldn't let him use that excuse either. Holding up the sack lunch that her mother had prepared, she said, "C'mon -- there's got to be someplace private where you and I can go talk." She smiled at him, adding, "And I think my mom packed some brownies in here."

Ryan perked up, giving the first genuine smile she had seen from him all day. "We could go to the North Tower," he suggested, standing up from the piano bench. "No one ever goes up there."

"Perfect," Gabriella said, linking arms with him and snuggling against his shoulder as they headed for the door. "Because it's time that you and I had a heart-to-heart."

**END OF PART 3**


	4. Chapter 4

**Fever (part 4 of 6)**

Taylor watched out the window as the old pick-up truck pulled up to her house. It came to a lurching stop, the engine immediately died, and Taylor winced at the sound of grinding gears.

"That's my ride. See you later, Mom!" she called as she grabbed her purse and stepped out the door.

Walking down to the street, Taylor chuckled at the sight of her date in the driver's seat. From street-level, only his wild mane of hair was visible through the windows of the metal monstrosity.

He opened the passenger door for her from the inside but didn't get out of the truck, as he was focused on attempting to restart the engine.

Taylor awkwardly climbed into the cab of the tall truck, silently cursing herself for choosing to wear a miniskirt. She had agonized over what to wear – this was their first real date, after all, so of course she wanted to look good! But if she had known that he would be driving THIS, she might have chosen a more sensible (but still fashionable) pair of jeans instead.

The date was not off to an auspicious start.

"Hey babe," Chad said suavely as she hefted the door shut behind her. "Lookin' good!"

Taylor shook her head and laughed, charmed despite herself. "You too. And hey, nice ride!" she teased.

"Yeah," he grunted as he jammed the gear shift forward, attempting to put the truck back into gear, "Troy...let me...borrow it!"

She bit back a sarcastic comment as the truck lurched violently.

Finally, on the third attempt, Chad managed to throw it into first, pulling smoothly away from the curb. Chad nodded and smiled, obviously pleased with himself.

"So where are we going?" Taylor asked.

"Surprise," Chad replied, grinning widely.

"Are you gonna at least give me a hint?"

Chad shook his head. "Nope."

Taylor almost gave him a playful shove, but thought better of it, as Chad seemed to be having a rough time just keeping the truck moving. "Fine, then. Keep your secrets. Be the man of mystery."

He frowned a bit at this but didn't take his eyes off the road. "What do you mean by that?"

As the truck pulled up to a stop sign, it lurched and stalled. Chad stomped his foot on the clutch and restarted the engine again, cursing under his breath.

Taylor shrugged. "I don't mean anything by it. You're just being mysterious is all."

"What? I just wanted to surprise you and now suddenly I'm 'mysterious'? Like I have something to hide?"

"You don't have to get all defensive!" Taylor replied, a bit defensive herself.

"I'm not defensive!" Chad snapped. "I just don't see why you're accusing me of hiding something when all I wanted to do was surprise you!"

"Okay, just forget I said anything. How about I just sit here and shut up and let you drive so we arrive there -- wherever 'there' is -- in one piece?"

They sat in tense silence for a moment as Chad tried to get the truck back into first gear.

Finally, he spoke up. "Look, I'm sorry." He briefly turned his head to look at Taylor as he started through the stop sign, but the truck immediately lurched forward and stalled yet again. "DAMMIT!" He pounded on the steering wheel with his fist.

Taylor put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Feel better?"

Chad sighed wearily, then nodded, chuckling. "Yeah, actually I kinda do."

Taylor squeezed his shoulder, relieved that the tension had broken. "It's okay. You just get us to wherever we're going, and THEN we can talk. Deal?"

"Deal."

Grinning, Chad re-started the truck and put it into first gear on his first try, prompting celebratory whoops from both of them. The truck lurched slightly as Chad pulled through the intersection, but he managed to keep the engine running this time. They spent the remainder of the drive in comfortable silence, and Taylor began to think that maybe this date wasn't going to be a complete disaster after all!

Until they arrived at their destination.

"Ta-da! Here we are!" Chad announced as he pulled the truck into the driveway of what looked like a very large parking lot.

"'Mesa Drive-In?'" Taylor read from the large illuminated sign. "How...retro."

"Cool, huh?" Chad said, "Hey, did you know this is the last drive-in in New Mexico? All the rest of them have been bulldozed for condos or strip malls or whatever."

Taylor found herself idly wondering if she had stepped into some kind of time warp. 'Do people actually still GO to the drive-in?'

But Taylor's question was soon answered, for they found themselves at the end of a long line of cars.

"I wonder why the line's not moving," Chad said, putting the truck in neutral and setting the brake.

"Maybe it's not open yet," Taylor offered. "I mean, it doesn't get dark until after 9 o'clock."

"Oh," Chad said, suddenly sounding dejected. "I hadn't thought of that."

"Hey, it's okay," Taylor soothed, "We can talk and listen to music. How about that?"

She switched on the radio and spun the dial, eventually settling on a bouncy dance tune. "Ooh, I love this song!" She turned it up louder as she bopped in her seat in time with the beat.

"I think I do, too, now," Chad said, admiring the way she shimmied.

"Oh, hey, that reminds me! When are you going to take me dancing?"

Chad looked confused. "Dancing?"

"Yeah, dancing! Remember? Where you move around to music?" she teased, demonstrating by dancing in her seat some more.

"I KNOW what dancing is," Chad replied, starting to get defensive again. "But what does that have to do with you and me?"

Taylor swatted his knee playfully. "You promised to take me dancing when you were good enough. YOU may not remember, but I do." She smiled proudly at him as she continued, "And a little birdie wearing a very stylish hat informed me that you are making excellent progress! So I ask again: when are you taking me dancing?"

"I'm not!"

"But Ryan said--"

"Hey, I don't want to talk about Ryan!" he interrupted angrily, switching off the radio. "And I don't want to talk about dancing or lessons or music or whatever!" Almost as an afterthought, he added, "And if you like Hatboy so much, why don't you go dancing with HIM?" He folded his arms across his chest as if to signal that he was putting an end to any further discussion on the subject.

Taylor was shocked by Chad's sudden outburst. First of all, since when did he not want to talk about Ryan? Lately that seemed to be ALL he wanted to talk about.

And why didn't Chad want to talk about his dance lessons? Just this past Wednesday, he had been bragging to her and Gabriella about how good he was getting.

But the most disturbing thing about Chad's outburst was that he'd referred to Ryan as "Hatboy." Although the nickname wasn't derogatory per se, Chad had started using it back when Ryan Evans was still just some snooty rich boy in homeroom who always wore hats and annoyed the hell out of Chad. But now that they'd all gotten to know Ryan better, and now that he and Chad had become fast friends, Chad never used that nickname anymore.

'So why use it now?' Taylor wondered. She considered just asking him -- after all, she didn't think it was possible to put him in a WORSE mood -- but then she thought the better of it. Like it or not, she was stuck with him for the evening, and she didn't want to antagonize him further.

'Stuck with him'. Taylor found it hard to believe that she was thinking this way, especially after she'd spent the last six months anticipating this day. She never could've imagined back in January that she'd be feeling like this on their first "proper" date.

Of course, things had moved so quickly back then. In the course of a week, Taylor had gone from abhorring Chad Danforth, to conspiring with him against their friends, to DATING him.

Thinking back on it, Taylor was a little embarrassed at how giddy she'd been when Chad had asked her to the party after the basketball championships. But she was so caught up in the excitement of it all -- not only winning the Scholastic Decathlon but also succeeding in carrying out their elaborate plan to get Gabriella and Troy to callbacks in time -- that she kind of lost her head. After all, Chad may have been a jock, but he was also one of the most popular guys in school, and a hottie at that! Not to mention the fact that Chad's interest in Taylor immediately secured her a spot on East High's "A-list."

And afterwards, having a regular date for school dances and events made life so much easier.

Not that she didn't LIKE Chad. He was great -- funny, and cute, and a blast to hang out with. But that's mainly all they did -- hang out. They never mooned over each other while holding hands or snuck off to corners to share private kisses. Not like Troy and Gabriella. No, Taylor and Chad simply hung out.

At first, Taylor was anxious to move their relationship to the next step. She was tired of group dates. She wanted a REAL date, where she and Chad could be alone to...what, she wasn't sure. She just knew that she wanted to feel the same way Gabriella did when she was with Troy, and Taylor figured that spending time alone with Chad was the way to make that happen.

But they were NEVER alone. They were always in a group, either at parties on the weekends or over at Gabriella's house on Wednesday evenings. Sure, they talked on the phone or in the hallways at school, but they were never ALONE. And their double dates with Gabriella and Troy were never what she was hoping for -- Chad would always end up talking to Troy, and Gabi would end up talking to her, and they might as well have been at SCHOOL considering the total lack of romance.

Taylor was DYING for a little romance, if not for her own sake, merely to get her sister Tonya off her back. Tonya seemed to spend all of her time criticizing how her sister was handling things and lecturing Taylor about her "Boy Rules", making Taylor wish that her sister had gone away to college. True, Tonya knew more about boys than her little sister did, but she didn't know EVERYTHING. And Taylor hated being made to feel so incompetent, especially by a straight-C student.

So Taylor had tried to get Chad to ask her out on a "proper" date -- just the two of them, something simple like a dinner and a movie -- in short, something like this. But as much as Taylor had hinted, Chad had never caught on. Taylor would've just asked him herself, but she knew Tonya would never let her hear the end of it, so instead she waited, hoping that Chad would one day come to his senses. But he never had. And as time went on, she and Chad had just become good friends, with the added benefit of having a built-in date for everything. In Taylor's eyes, Chad had almost become a male version of Gabriella -- except with bigger hair and a smaller vocabulary.

Which is what had made this sudden date thing so weird! Why, after six months, had Chad finally asked her out? And why was he acting so...WEIRD about it now? Taylor glanced over at Chad, who was still sitting in the driver's seat with his arms folded across his chest, fuming. Taylor sighed and started to turn away when a movement caught her eye.

"Oh, the line's moving," she said excitedly, pointing at the cars at the front of the line that were finally pulling forward. "They must've opened up the gates."

Chad suddenly sprang to life, all evidence of his recent temper tantrum gone. "Finally!" As the car in front of him began to move, Chad put the truck into first gear and tried to drive forward, but the truck lurched and the engine died.

Chad growled obscenities to himself under his breath, frantically trying to get the truck restarted, but Taylor put a comforting hand on his knee.

"It's okay, Chad. We're almost inside. And once we're parked, we can go see what they have at the concession stand. Okay?"

Chad smiled. "Good -- I'm starved!"

The SUV behind them in line started honking its horn impatiently. Taylor pulled her hand away from Chad's knee so he could concentrate on restarting the truck and driving it forward.

Once they were through the ticket booth, Chad confidently pulled forward towards the screen directly in front of them. Taylor looked around at the entire complex, which consisted of three different parking lots facing three different screens. All the parking lots seemed to have rows of what looked like high, wide speed bumps, and Taylor wondered what they could be for. But as Chad pulled up to a space and parked, with the front wheels of the truck on the crest of one of these bumps, Taylor realized exactly what their purpose was -- to tilt the cars up so that the seats were partially inclined, looking directly up towards the screen.

'Clever!' she thought to herself, glad that she hadn't made herself look stupid by asking about them.

"So -- food?!" Chad asked eagerly, flashing Taylor a big grin as he hopped easily down from the truck.

She nodded, awkwardly climbing down from the tall seat as she once again cursed her choice of clothing.

They started walking towards the concession stand, but halfway there, Chad remembered that he hadn't locked the truck and had to run back. Taylor waited for him, taking in the ambience of the drive-in. She could see the appeal, especially to teenagers.

And once she got some food in Chad, maybe his mood would improve --wasn't that one of Tonya's "Boy Rules"? "Boys are never happy unless they have a full stomach?" If it wasn't, it certainly should be -- that was one thing she'd learned from hanging out with Chad and Troy and the other boys.

When Chad came running back, he panted a quick, "Sorry -- we can go now," putting his arm around her and heading once again towards the concession stand and the all-important food.

"You're a little out-of-shape," Taylor teased, feeling Chad's heavy breathing as they walked together. "You better start running some laps before basketball season starts, or Coach Bolton is gonna be pissed."

"I ain't out-of-shape," he said, playfully shoving her away. "I could beat you in a foot race anyday."

Taylor laughed, relieved to see Chad back to his old self again. "I'm sure you could. And I'm sure I could beat you on a chemistry test."

"Why you gotta bring a guy down?" Chad teased, pretending to look sad. "I don't even want to start thinking about school yet."

"No school talk tonight -- gotcha!"

And no Ryan talk. Or dancing talk. They were running out of topics that they COULD discuss.

Luckily, food was still on the list.

As they walked into the building, they looked around for a place to sit.

"There's a booth!" Chad said, instantly running off and sliding into it.

Taylor followed at a more dignified speed, sitting down across from him.

"Now where are those waiters?" Chad asked, looking around expectantly.

"Chad, there's no waiters. You buy your food over there," Taylor said, pointing to the long line at the register. "Like a fast food joint."

"Oh man!" Chad stood up reluctantly. "Okay, you stay here and I'll go get us some food."

"I'll come with--" Taylor started, but Chad cut her off, putting a hand on her shoulder so she couldn't stand.

"And lose our booth? No way. You stay here."

Taylor placed her purse on the table, planning to get out some money, but Chad stopped her. "And I'M paying -- it's a date, right?"

Taylor smiled. "Right." She watched as Chad hurried off to get the food, secretly pleased that Chad was paying -- at least Tonya would approve of that!

Unfortunately, getting the food wasn't as easy as Chad had thought, and he kept having to run back to the table to ask her what she wanted. It was almost fifteen minutes later before Chad returned to the table with the tray full of food, which he set down triumphantly in front of her. "Ta-da!"

Taylor surveyed the tray, piled high with hot dogs and popcorn and candy bars. "Gourmet," she teased.

"Hey, it's not my fault the slushie machine was broken."

Taylor laughed -- that wasn't exactly what she'd meant. But nonetheless, it was food, and the smell of the freshly-popped popcorn was making her mouth water. So they dug in eagerly, talking and laughing easily as they ate.

Chad seemed more like his usual relaxed self again, and Taylor was really enjoying spending time with him. His mere presence didn't make her feel giddy or send chills up her spine, but she was having fun nonetheless.

Of course, she knew her sister would probably disapprove -- Tonya always was going on about how "chemistry" was the most important part of a relationship. But Taylor knew there was more to chemistry than just sparks and volatile reactions -- sometimes two solvents were miscible, and when mixed, they just seamlessly blended together. That was clearly the case with her and Chad, and Taylor was more than satisfied.

They blended SO well, in fact, that Taylor was surprised when she checked her watch and saw that it was already 9 pm.

"Whoa -- we better get back to the truck," she said, sliding to the edge of the booth. "We don't want to miss the beginning of the movie."

"I'll do the dishes," Chad said gallantly, jumping up and taking the tray over to the trash bin.

Taylor laughed, joining him. "You've become quite the waiter, Chad," she teased. "Maybe I should give you a tip."

Chad winked suggestively, putting his arm around her shoulders. "I know what kind of tip I want."

Taylor shoved him playfully. "Creep," she teased.

As they walked outside, Taylor noticed how dark it had gotten. She was really looking forward to the movie -- not the flick itself, since action films weren't really her thing, but the entire experience of watching it at the drive-in. It seemed so...nostalgic. Like something out of _Grease_, that musical Ryan had made them all watch one Wednesday a few weeks ago. Taylor didn't know whether or not that movie had inspired Chad to pick the drive-in for their date -- but whatever the inspiration, she was glad that he'd thought of it.

The two of them got back to the truck and were just climbing in when the previews started on the screen in front of them. But almost immediately, Taylor noticed something seemed off.

"Where's the sound?" Taylor asked.

"Oh yeah." Chad quickly turned the radio on and started turning the dial. "I can't remember which station they said -- do you?"

Taylor shook her head -- she didn't remember anyone saying anything about a station.

Chad turned the dial back and forth, not bothering to turn down the volume, and Taylor tried to focus on the screen, resisting the urge to plug her ears against the loud static.

"Yes!" Chad said as he finally succeeded in finding the station that matched the screen.

The first preview was nearly over, but Taylor didn't think they'd missed much -- it just looked like a sappy romance.

As the second preview started, Chad smiled suavely at Taylor, putting his right arm across the back of the seat behind her.

Taylor smiled back and returned her attention to the preview. It also looked like a sappy romance, and though Zach Braff was adorable, Taylor couldn't really see him as a serious romantic lead.

Another preview -- another romance.

'This is weird,' Taylor thought. In a regular theatre, the previews usually were similar to the movie that was about to play. 'I guess it's different at the drive-in.'

The announcement for the "Feature Presentation" flashed on the screen. Chad moved his arm from the seatback down onto Taylor's shoulders, grinning at her.

"Y'all ready for this?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Taylor nodded and snuggled back against his arm. Their date certainly hadn't started out well, but everything was perfect now.

Except for the movie. As the opening credits began to roll, with a violin playing a soppy melody as the camera panned across the French countryside, Chad and Taylor shared a confused look. This CERTAINLY didn't seem like the beginning of an action film.

As she turned to him, shaking her head, Taylor noticed an action film playing on the next screen over.

"Hey, isn't THAT our movie?" she asked, reaching across Chad to point.

Chad's head whipped around to look at the other screen. "Dammit!" he said. As he turned the keys in the ignition, he mumbled under his breath, "What else can I screw up tonight?"

He didn't have to wait long for an answer, for as soon as he started the truck, he automatically turned on the headlights without thinking, illuminating the cars and the screen in front of them. Immediately, the entire parking lot started to honk their horns. Flustered, Chad didn't think to turn out the lights but instead gunned the engine, attempting a quick getaway. Of course, the truck lurched forward, the front wheels crashing down to the ground roughly as the truck passed over the hump, and the engine died.

As Chad tried to start the engine again, the cacophony of horns still blaring, Taylor leaned over, saying in her calmest voice, "Just turn off the lights, Chad."

Chad sighed frustratedly but did as he was told, and that seemed to appease the angry honkers.

However, Chad was clearly still flustered, for it took him several more attempts before he could successfully maneuver the truck out of the wrong "theatre" and over to the right one. And while their original parking spot had been dead center to the screen, driving over to the new one late AND in the dark meant that they had to pick a spot all the way in back and far off to the side.

Once there, Chad again commenced his search for the correct radio station. After several failed attempts, Taylor put a comforting hand over his.

"Here, let me try to find it," she said.

Turning down the volume, she slowly turned the dial and almost immediately found the soundtrack to the car chase they were currently watching on the new screen.

The two of them both sat back, sighing in relief.

After a moment, Chad turned to Taylor. "I'm really sorry...," he began, but Taylor cut him off.

"Don't worry about it," she said, patting him on the knee. "I didn't know we were at the wrong screen either. Let's just watch the movie. Okay?"

Chad nodded, and the two of them turned their attention to the big screen.

Having missed the first several minutes, it took Taylor some time to figure out what was going on. The movie seemed to focus on an ex-cop -- or was he a soldier of fortune? -- who seemed to be after some guys for their narcotics shipment -- or maybe diamond smuggling? -- all while hanging from the bottom of a helicopter. There was also some woman in a slinky dress with a Derringer in her garter, and it appeared that a German Shepherd named "Marty" was going to be a leading character. But Taylor didn't care -- she was just enjoying the novelty of watching a movie at the drive-in.

The novelty got even better when Chad put his arm around her shoulders. She smiled at him, nodding her approval, and snuggled into his side, laying her head on his shoulder, settling in to watch this disaster of a movie.

But Chad seemed to have other ideas. After a while, Taylor noticed Chad's hand starting to creep down from her shoulder. Assuming that his hand was falling asleep with her pressing against his arm, she shifted over in the seat to give him more room.

Then she felt Chad's other hand on her thigh.

"Excuse me?!" she said, turning towards him, annoyed with his presumption.

But Chad took the movement as an invitation, and suddenly his lips were on hers.

Shocked, Taylor leaned away from Chad, but he followed. His weight now pressing her against the seat, he moved his hand from her thigh to encircle her in a tight embrace as he deepened the kiss.

Before Taylor even had a chance to process what was happening, she felt Chad's tongue in her mouth. This seemed to bring her back to her senses, and she forcefully shoved Chad off of her.

"What the hell?!" she yelled at Chad, wriggling free from his arms as she sat up, pushing him back.

By the light of the drive-in screen, Taylor could see Chad's face. Based on what he'd just done, she had expected to see a look of hungry lust there, but instead he just looked confused and a little hurt.

That did nothing to assuage her anger.

"What is your problem?!" Taylor demanded, pressing herself against the passenger door to try to get as much space between them as possible. "You've been acting weird all night, and now this?!"

"But you're S'POSED to be my girlfriend," Chad stated, as if this explained everything.

"Oh, and so that means that after six months, when you FINALLY ask me out, I'm supposed to be so grateful that I put out or something?!" Taylor shook her head in anger. "What planet are you from?!"

Chad sighed wearily, running a hand through his hair as he leaned his head against the driver's side window.

But Taylor wasn't finished yet.

"You think that you can pay for my movie ticket and buy me dinner, which, by the way, made me long for the school cafeteria food, and then I would just LET you have your way with me?! If THAT'S the kind of girlfriend you're looking for, then you better look someplace else, mister, 'cuz that ain't me."

But Chad said nothing -- he merely crossed his arms over the top of the steering wheel and laid his head down.

Taylor took a couple of deep breaths, her initial rage finally subsiding enough to take in Chad's reaction.

If he had really wanted to have his way with her, she realized, he easily could've physically overpowered her. But clearly, by the way he was reacting now, his attack had not been motivated by lust alone.

Not that his motivation really mattered -- regardless, he'd done what he'd done. And he wasn't even apologizing!

"What do you have to say for yourself, Chad?!"

A mumbled "I'm sorry," came from the steering wheel, where Chad's face was still buried in his arms.

"That's it?! 'I'm sorry'?!"

Chad sighed, lifting his head and leaning back against his seat, unable to meet her eyes.

"I don't know what else to say," Chad began dejectedly. "I'm...kinda going through something right now. But I'm really sorry I upset you -- I didn't mean to."

Something in his tone took the edge off her anger, and the two of them sat in uncomfortable silence for several minutes as the stereo blared a gun battle that was playing out on the screen in front of them.

As Taylor sat there, thinking about this rapid change of events, she realized that while she was still upset, she was no longer scared. She released her grip on the door handle, which she was surprised to notice that she had been clutching tightly, unconsciously preparing to flee if necessary.

She was even MORE surprised when, a moment later, Chad flung HIS door open and leapt out of the truck, not even bothering to shut the door behind him.

Taylor watched him go, carefully considering her options. Once she'd reached a decision, she calmly leaned over and shut the driver's side door, locking it. She then turned off the stereo, removed the keys from the ignition and put them away in her purse for safe-keeping. She then opened up her own door and climbed out, locking it behind her, and went to find Chad.

As she walked off in the direction that he'd headed, Taylor looked around her. It felt eerie to be surrounded by three giant movie screens, each brightly projecting a silent movie. This was not at all the quaint time at the drive-in she had imagined after seeing _Grease_.

However, now that Taylor thought about it, the drive-in scene in _Grease_ had ended just as badly, with Sandy fleeing after Danny hit on her.

But in this case, it was Chad who had fled, and Taylor sincerely hoped that he was okay. Something had seemed off about him all night -- indeed, ever since he'd called her the night before -- and Taylor wondered what was bothering him.

As she approached the concession stand, she realized that he hadn't gone inside the building but over to the children's playground instead. He was sitting on a swing in the semi-darkness, mindlessly swaying forward and back with his feet on the ground.

Getting closer, she heard Chad mumble to himself, "It was just one kiss. But now it's changed everything."

Taylor was surprised at the anguish in Chad's voice. Sure, he'd acted like an idiot. But he'd also acted like a typical teenage boy with raging hormones. Was it really any different than what had happened in _Grease_? And besides, all he'd really done was kiss her -- Taylor had seen to it that nothing more had happened.

So there was no need for him to be overreacting the way he was.

Taylor decided it was time for her to step in and put an end to it.

Stopping in front of him, Taylor grasped hold of the chains and brought the swing to a stop in front of her. Looking down at Chad, who was still sitting in the swing but unable to meet her eyes, she said, "Everything's not changed, Chad. We're still friends. As you said, it was just one kiss. There's no need to beat yourself up over it."

Chad finally looked up at her, but even in the semi-darkness, Taylor could see the remorse in his eyes.

"I'm really sorry, Taylor."

Taylor nodded. "I know you are."

"I was...just thinking of me. I just really needed..." Chad trailed off into a sigh, shaking his head and looking down at his feet.

Taylor couldn't help but tease. "Oh, I KNOW what you needed -- I paid attention in health class."

Chad smiled at her teasing and looked back up, which Taylor took as a positive sign.

"C'mon," she said, letting go of the swing and offering Chad a hand up. "This movie was a bad idea."

"Yeah, that's an understatement," Chad said, taking her hand and standing up.

"Let's just go somewhere to hang out," Taylor suggested as they started walking back to the truck. "After all, it's a Friday night, and my curfew isn't until 11:30. Maybe we can go find a place to have coffee or something?"

Chad made a face. "Coffee?"

Taylor laughed, rolling her eyes. "Or ice cream or whatever. Just someplace where we can sit and hang out--"

"And forget that the rest of this evening even happened?" Chad asked hopefully.

Taylor patted Chad reassuringly on the back, somehow knowing that he would never try the same thing with her again.

"Already forgotten," Taylor said, taking his hand and smiling up at him. "And forgiven."

**END OF PART 4**


	5. Chapter 5

**Fever (part 5 of 6)**

As Chad drove up to the Boltons', he pulled the truck over to the curb and smoothly brought it to a stop.

"Yes!" Chad exclaimed out loud as he turned off the engine, proud of himself. He was really starting to get the hang of this whole "driving a stick" thing.

'Maybe I'll even consider a car with a stick shift,' he thought, climbing out of the truck and heading up the walk. He was really looking forward to today, excited about the prospect of shopping for his very own car.

Troy stepped out of the house before Chad even reached the porch. "You ready?"

Chad nodded, smiling. "Let's go find me some wheels."

As they started back out towards the truck, Troy looked at his friend, a knowing look on his face. "So," he asked, raising a questioning eyebrow, "how was it?"

"Oh, the movie sucked, man. Carrot Top was definitely not meant to be an actor, let alone an action hero. We didn't even stay for the whole thing."

Troy laughed. "Dude, I'm talking about the DATE."

"Oh, yeah."

Chad had momentarily forgotten that last night's outing had been a date because that part of it had been such a complete disaster. But afterwards, he and Taylor went to Denny's and stayed there for hours, just chatting and hanging out, having a great time, which hadn't seemed like a date because he'd just felt so COMFORTABLE with her.

Not at all the way he felt around Ryan.

"Fine!" Chad blurted out. "The date was fine!"

"Whoa, dude!" Troy said, taking a step back from his friend, his hands held up. "That bad, huh? Didn't Taylor fall for the old Danforth charm?"

Chad cringed. "Charming" was hardly the word he would use to describe the way he'd acted last night. "Depraved," perhaps. "Stupid," without a doubt. But definitely not "charming."

He couldn't believe he'd actually jumped on Taylor like that! But he'd so desperately wanted to get the taste of Ryan Evans out of his mouth. He wanted to prove to himself once and for all that that kiss in the yoga studio had been a lapse, a one-time error in judgment. He figured that, if he could just have a hot & heavy make-out session with his "girlfriend" of six months, then all thoughts of Ryan would vanish and he could go back to his regularly scheduled life.

But it hadn't worked out that way at all. Instead, Chad had attacked Taylor with such gusto that he'd pissed her off, totally risking their friendship! Luckily she'd forgiven him, but it could've just as easily ended the other way.

Regardless of the outcome, the ploy didn't work. Kissing Taylor hadn't made him forget about Ryan – instead, it had the exact opposite effect: it made him realize just how much he liked Ryan, and how much he WANTED him.

And that was a realization he was having a hard time dealing with.

Glancing over at his best friend, Chad sighed, bitterly realizing that Troy had things so easy. After all, Troy had a girlfriend that he was totally hot for, and clearly she was head-over-heels for him as well.

All Chad had was a "girlfriend" he was barely attracted to and a dance teacher that he definitely was.

"Dude, it's okay," Troy said, slapping his friend on the back. "I'm not going to go all Oprah on you. We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." Troy laughed. "I mean, we're not GIRLS."

Chad laughed, feeling totally relieved. The last thing he wanted to do was sit around and discuss what was on his mind.

Especially when the only thing on his mind lately was Ryan.

"So," Troy continued, holding up a folded newspaper, "my dad and I went through the classifieds last night and circled everything that we thought might be a possibility."

"Wow," Chad said, taking the paper and glancing down at the numerous ads circled in red. "Thanks, dude."

Troy shrugged as they reached the street. "Don't mention it," he said, walking around the truck bed. "I just thought it would give us a jump start on today."

Chad climbed into the passenger seat while Troy climbed in the driver's side. "I didn't even think about that," Chad admitted, not really having planned anything in advanced.

"Well, I figured this would save us some time." Troy grinned sheepishly. "And the sooner we finish this shopping, the sooner we can come back here and play some hoops."

"It figures!" Chad laughed, swatting his friend with the newspaper. "I knew you couldn't have done it just to be nice."

"Hey, I'M the nice one, remember?" Troy teased, pointing proudly to himself.

"Since when?"

"Since always!" Troy said, smoothly starting up the truck and pulling into the street.

"Name one person who thinks you're nice." Before Troy could answer, Chad quickly added, "And Gabriella doesn't count!"

After a moment's thought, Troy said, "Just the other day, Ryan said I was nice for being so patient with him during his golf lesson."

"Yeah, well," Chad said tersely, eager to turn the conversation to another subject, "there's no accounting for taste with some people."

Troy laughed, giving his friend a playful shove. "Dude, what does that say about YOU, then? Ryan spent half the lesson talking about your 'mad dance-floor skillz.'" Troy briefly took his hands off the steering wheel to make air-quotes.

Chad blinked, considering this information. Ryan had been talking about him? To Troy?

Then Chad's train of thought screeched to a halt. "Wait...he didn't actually say 'mad dance-floor skillz,' did he?"

"Yeah!" Troy nodded. "He even added afterwards, 'And that's skillz with a z.'"

Chad laughed, shaking his head. He could SO hear Ryan saying that. "What a dork," he said affectionately.

"A dork who thinks I'm nice," Troy smiled smugly. "See, Gabi's not the only one!"

"So TWO people think you're nice," Chad said, punching his friend twice on the arm. "When are you posing for your statue, Mr. Nice Guy?"

"Hey, there's no need for sarcasm, Danforth!" Troy countered as he pulled the truck over to park in front of a ramshackle house. "Or maybe you'd rather pound the pavement yourself?"

"No, no!" Chad conceded, laughing. "I'd much rather get the help of my SUPER-NICE and AWESOME best friend, who has so GENEROUSLY donated his Saturday to help me find a car!"

"Generous?" Troy teased. "Dude, no one said anything about 'generous!' I expect to be fully compensated for both my time and my gas expenses!"

At Chad's sheepish look, Troy added, "But...since you need all the money you can get for a set of wheels, I guess I'll just have to settle for the joy of your company...AGAIN!"

Chad rolled his eyes. "Way to make a guy feel welcome, Bolton!"

But truthfully, Chad was enjoying the banter. It had been ages since just he and Troy had hung out together, and he didn't realize until now how much he had missed his friend.

"So I figured we'd start here," Troy said as the two boys piled out of the truck, "'cuz it was the closest, and then we can check out any other cars you want."

"Sounds like a plan," Chad said.

He looked around as they headed towards the driveway of the house, eager to catch sight of what might become his new ride, but all he saw were several old cars that looked as ancient and broken-down as the house. "Dude, where's the car?" Chad whispered to his friend.

Troy laughed, pointing at the car directly in front of them in the driveway. "It's right there."

Chad turned to see that, indeed, the car in front of them had a "For Sale" sign neatly tucked inside the back window.

If you could even call it a "car." "Bucket of bolts" might have been more accurate. Chad couldn't even tell what color the old-school VW Bug had once been, it was so covered in rust.

"Man, this car is older than your dad!" Chad exclaimed, walking around the car.

"That's probably true."

Chad jumped at the voice behind him and turned to see a middle-aged man walking towards them from the front door of the house.

"It's a '73," the man continued. "But it still runs. Those Krauts really know how to make things that last."

"Except empires," Troy joked, walking over to shake the guy's hand. "How you doing?"

"Doing great," the man replied. "So, you're in the market for a car?"

Troy nodded towards his best friend. "HE is."

'Why'd he have to say that?' Chad wondered. 'Now the guy's totally gonna lay on the sales pressure.'

But luckily, the man only shook Chad's hand, saying, "Well, she's nothing to look at, but she'll get you where you need to go. You wanna take her for a test drive?"

"No, I'm...uh...not looking to buy today," Chad said. "Just checking out my options. You know, seeing what's on the market. But...uh...maybe we'll come back later?" He didn't really think so, but he wanted to be polite.

The guy nodded. "Any time -- I doubt she's going anywhere for awhile."

"Well, thanks for your time, sir," Troy said as the two boys walked back to the truck.

After climbing back in, Troy turned to his friend. "No test drive?"

"Dude, did you see how OLD that thing was? Chad Danforth cannot be seen in something that...pathetic."

Troy laughed. "You mean Chad Danforth doesn't want to take his DATES out in something that pathetic."

Chad laughed nervously. After last night's disaster, he couldn't imagine taking ANYONE out on a date in the near future. Not that Taylor would've approved of this car anyway. And he could just picture Ryan's look of horror at the old VW – the blond boy probably wouldn't dare come within six feet of something so rusty for fear of ruining his expensive clothes.

Chad silently chastised himself as he realized he'd been thinking about Ryan...AGAIN. Didn't his brain have anything BETTER to do?

"So where to next?" Troy asked as he pulled the truck away from the curb.

Chad quickly picked up the newspaper and started skimming through the want-ads that Troy and Coach Bolton had circled for him. But instead of noticing the addresses, Chad noticed the prices.

"$5,500! $6,000!! I'd have to caddy from now until Christmas to pay for some of these!"

Troy shrugged. "You could always get a loan."

"Oh right, so then I'd have a loan payment as WELL as an insurance payment, not to mention gas prices these days! I'd definitely have to get a full-time job during school, and that'd mean I couldn't play basketball. No thanks, dude."

Troy laughed. "Makes you wish you were an Evans, doesn't it? Brand-new matching Mustangs on their 16th birthdays -- must have been rough."

"Yeah, but have you heard the engine on Ryan's car? It purrs. Like, I seriously didn't even notice the engine was on, it was so quiet."

"Well, some people are just born lucky, I guess. But for those of us who AREN'T, we'll just have to make due with what we can afford." Troy gestured towards the paper. "Some of the cars in there aren't TOO much. Let's at least check some of them out."

Chad nodded and scanned through the ads, finally finding one that was more in his price range and reading off the address.

As Troy drove them across town, Chad leaned back in his seat, thinking about Ryan's bright yellow car. And Ryan. And what the two of them could do in his car at the drive-in.

Chad shook his head, trying to clear all thoughts of Ryan. Lately his mind just wouldn't let him alone. And it wasn't just his waking mind either -- his sleeping mind was just as obsessed. Chad's pulse quickened as he thought back to the dreams he'd had on Thursday night -- he had never been so thankful that his mother did laundry on Fridays!

So what did all this mean, Chad wondered. Could he be…gay? Chad was afraid to even THINK the word, for fear that it would produce a giant flashing sign pointing at his head. "GAY!"

'But how can I be gay?' Chad wondered. After all, he was Chad Danforth: jock, comedian, loyal friend, ladies' man. He wasn't some fruit who wore dresses and walked in Gay Pride parades.

Of course, neither was Ryan. He was just a regular guy who wore a lot of hats and kicked ass on the baseball diamond. And who could dance circles around everyone at East High, including his sister. And who could make Chad weak in the knees with the slightest shimmy of his slim hips….

"Stop!"

As Troy slammed on the brakes, Chad realized to his horror that he'd spoken out loud.

"What is it?!" Troy asked, frantically sitting up tall in his seat, craning his neck to catch a glimpse of the front corners of his car. "Did I hit something?!"

Chad's heart was racing. 'Way to go, Danforth,' he scolded himself. 'You don't NEED that flashing sign.'

He quickly tried to cover his mistake, mumbling something about seeing a "For Sale" sign on a car down a side street. "But let's just forget about it," he continued, hoping Troy would. "I'm sure it's out of my price range anyway. Let's just keep going."

Troy nodded, sighing with relief as he restarted the truck. "Don't do that to me, man," he said. "You scared the crap out of me."

Chad pretended to sniff the air. "So THAT'S what that smell is."

Troy laughed, playfully shoving his friend.

"Eyes on the road, mister," Chad teased. "I actually want to LIVE to get my first car."

Then, pointing to a car parked against the curb with a "For Sale" sign, he continued excitedly, "Especially if it's THAT one!"

But Troy looked doubtful. "Is that really the one in the ad?" he asked, pulling up behind the car and parking. "It looks a little out of your price range."

"No, it's perfect, man," Chad said, hopping out of the truck and hurrying over to get a closer look at what he was sure was going to be his new car. Although it was a Saturn, it looked like a sports car, with its candy-apple red paint job, sparkling hubcaps, and a flashy spoiler on the trunk.

"I don't know," Troy said warily, joining his friend by the car.

"What's not to know?" Chad asked. "It's PERFECT!"

But Troy still didn't look convinced. "He's only asking $1,200 for it -- something's gotta be wrong."

"What could be wrong? It looks great -- no dents, no rust." Chad grinned at Troy. "It's even Wildcat red!"

It was a respectable first car -- more than respectable, in fact. Chad was sure that even Ryan would be willing to be seen in it.

"Wanna give it a spin?" the owner asked, joining them at the curb.

Chad was about to blurt out that he didn't need a test drive because he was already sold on it, but Troy spoke up first.

"Yes, we'd love to give it a try," Troy said, holding out his hand for the keys.

Chad hurried over, yanking the keys from his friend's hand. "Hey, I saw it first!"

The owner mumbled something vague about minor upholstery damage and added that he'd be in the garage if the boys needed anything.

Troy curiously watched the man walk lazily up the driveway. "Hey, don't you think it's weird that he just gave us the keys and walked away?"

"Dude, who cares?" Chad laughed incredulously. He ran his hand appraisingly over the smooth finish of the car as he walked around to the driver's door. 'Oh yeah...this sweet thing is as good as mine!'

"Well, I mean, people usually want to at least keep an eye on you when they hand over their car keys," Troy explained. "He doesn't even seem to be—"

Troy never finished his sentence because, at that moment, Chad opened the car door, unleashing some unearthly stench.

Chad suddenly felt like he'd been kicked in the gut by a very large, very smelly reanimated corpse who was now attempting to make-out with him. Covering his nose and mouth, he choked out, "What...the HELL...is THAT?!"

Troy coughed, his eyes watering. "I don't know!"

Chad felt his stomach lurch and pressed his lips together tightly to keep from retching.

"Shut the door!" Troy choked.

"WHAT?"

"SHUT THE GODDAMN DOOR!"

Chad kicked the door shut, and both boys fell to the pavement, gasping for breaths of fresh air.

After a few moments, the stench subsided and Chad's nausea passed. He looked up to make sure Troy was okay and found his friend doubled over with laughter.

"Bolton, don't you DARE say—"

"I TOLD you so!" Troy laughed.

"Yeah...that," Chad said, feeling a bit deflated.

"Hey, it's cool," Troy said, grinning at his friend as he offered him a hand up off the ground. "It's like my dad always says: 'if something seems too good to be true, it probably is.'"

"Funny, I'VE never heard him say that," Chad teased. "Usually it's something more like, 'C'mon guys, let's hustle!'"

Troy laughed, admitting, "Okay, yeah, he does say that a lot, too."

"Well," Chad said, running a hand through his hair, "what do you say we throw the keys back to Stinky Pete and get the hell out of here?"

"You don't have to ask me twice!"

The owner didn't look surprised when Chad handed the keys back to him; he merely nodded, sighing wearily.

The two boys were halfway out of the garage when curiosity got the better of Chad. Turning back to the owner, he asked, "Dude, what happened?"

The guy, who was in his early thirties and a little on the scruffy side, merely shrugged. "Bad break-up," he answered simply.

Chad and Troy shared a confused look before shaking their heads and walking back to the truck.

Climbing in, they scanned the classifieds for their next stop on "Operation: Find Chad Some Wheels." But Chad couldn't get his mind off the smell.

"What do you think that WAS?" Chad finally asked, not satisfied with the owner's vague explanation.

Troy shrugged. "No idea. Maybe his ex-girlfriend stuck a dead animal in there?"

"Or maybe his ex-girlfriend's dead body is in the trunk?" Chad asked, excited about the prospect of a real-life mystery.

"You've been watching too much TV, man." Troy started the ignition, asking, "Where to next?"

Chad pointed to one of the circled ads. "This one – 'unique ride, only $3000.' Sounds like my kinda car."

Grinning at his friend, Troy teased, "Yeah, 'unique' definitely sounds like you."

Chad playfully shoved his friend, who was squinting at the address.

"Oh, I know where that is," Troy said. "That's not far from here."

As Troy maneuvered the truck through the residential streets, Chad sat back in his seat, reflecting on the owner's words: "Bad break-up." Chad couldn't help feeling bad for the guy -- his ex-girlfriend must've taken the break-up pretty hard to do that much damage to his car.

Luckily, Taylor hadn't taken it that hard last night.

Not that they'd actually "broken up" -- it was difficult to put an end to something that had never really started. And it surely would've been TAYLOR doing the dumping anyway, if it had come to that. But they'd never actually broached the subject. However, by the end of the evening, they'd both known that things were "over" between them.

Not that he wouldn't still be her date for parties and things. In fact, he'd already promised to take her to the back-to-school dance; he figured that by then he'd be good enough to want to show off his "mad dance-floor skillz" to the world.

But he'd made it clear that if Taylor found someone that she'd RATHER go with between now and then, Chad would be happy to let her out of their date. After all, he didn't want to stand in the way of her finding a REAL boyfriend.

Which, Chad felt, was a much healthier way to end a relationship than destroying a guy's car! Now that he thought it about, love certainly made people do some weird shit.

Like kissing Ryan Evans in the sweltering yoga studio.

Chad shook his head, surprised at his line of thinking. He certainly didn't "love" Ryan -- did he? He definitely LIKED Ryan. And he'd been thinking about him a lot, even before they'd kissed. And he wanted to spend lots of time with him. And do things with him. And maybe even do things TO him. But that didn't mean he "loved" him, did it?

And so what if he didn't? Clearly Ryan was attracted to him, and he was attracted to Ryan. Maybe they should just give in to that attraction and see where it took them.

But to do that meant having to come to terms with the fact that he was kissing a guy.

And Chad wasn't sure that was possible.

"There it is," Troy said, pointing to a silver car with a hand-lettered "For Sale" sign taped on the back window.

"Sweet!" Chad exclaimed. "A Camaro!" Chad couldn't believe a car like that was in his price range.

But what had Troy said before, about "if something seems too good to be true, it probably is"? Chad tried not to get his hopes up too much as his friend drove all the way to the far end of the street to park.

Climbing out of the truck, the two boys walked back down the block, not even paying attention to the other cars parked along the crowded street.

Until they reached the end of the block.

"Wait," Troy said, stopping at the next cross-street. "It wasn't this far back, was it?"

"I don't think so," Chad said, trying to remember just how far they'd had to drive to find a parking spot. "But surely we would've seen it, right?"

Turning back around to the direction they'd just come from, Chad instantly saw the silver Camaro parked in the middle of the block. "There it is! But how'd we miss it?!"

Troy shrugged as they started walking back towards the Camaro.

But as they re-approached the car from the other direction, they began to understand why they had walked right past it. "Unique" had been an understatement: while the back of the car was definitely a silver Camaro, the front of the car seemed to be a silver Firebird. Upon closer inspection, they could even see the seam through the middle where the two car halves had been welded together.

The boys didn't even need to say a word to each other -- they just shared a look and immediately headed back towards the truck.

But once inside, they both burst into hysterical laughter.

"Oh my god, did you SEE that?" Chad asked, still doubting his own eyes.

"I didn't know it was even possible to weld two cars together like that," Troy laughed, shaking his head and starting up the truck. "That was so gay."

Chad's laugh instantly vanished at the casual use of the slang term. "'Gay'?"

Troy nodded and pulled away from the curb, obviously not aware of Chad's abrupt change in mood. "Do you think you'd need two license plates, one for the Camaro and one for the Firebird?" Troy teased. "Or maybe you could get a vanity plate that said 'Cambird' or 'Fir-aro' or something."

But Chad wasn't laughing along with his friend. "And you think that's 'gay'?" he asked.

Troy finally noticed Chad's tone. "Dude, I didn't mean 'gay' like 'gay'," Troy said, holding up a limp wrist. "I just meant, you know, gay."

Chad's blood was starting to boil. He knew he shouldn't get so defensive, for surely that would make Troy suspicious. But Chad couldn't believe how casually Troy was using the derogatory slang term.

Not that Chad himself hadn't used the expression once or twice before. But he'd never really thought about it -- it was just something he said, like "lame" or "retarded".

But now, Chad realized the word could actually be hurtful. A wave of guilt suddenly washed over him as he wondered if he'd ever accidentally used it in front of Ryan.

And if he had, what must Ryan have thought of him? That he was a total bigot? A homophobe? An asshole to the extreme?

Could that have been why Ryan had never said anything to him about being gay -- because he assumed Chad would beat the crap out of him if he knew? It wasn't necessarily a bad assumption. But after Chad had kissed HIM, there was no reason for Ryan to think that.

"Hey," Troy said, causing Chad to jump. "I didn't mean anything by it. There's nothing wrong with being gay. I mean, Ryan's a pretty cool guy."

"Ryan?!"

"Yeah, Ryan Evans." Troy glanced over at his friend's shocked expression and laughed. "Dude, you didn't know he was gay?"

"I...uh..."

Chad couldn't exactly say, "Well, I kinda figured it out when he stuck his tongue down my throat."

But if that was how HE had figured it out, how had Troy?!

"How do YOU know?!" Chad blurted out, sounding more jealous than he'd intended.

Troy laughed. "Dude, he was my choreographer and understudy for the winter musical. I shared a dressing room with him."

A shared dressing room? Had Ryan hit on Troy?

Troy must've read Chad's mind for he quickly added, "It's not like he hit on me or anything. He just NEVER talked about girls. You know how in the boys' locker room that's about the only topic of conversation? Well, in the dressing room, it just never came up." Troy's eyes bugged as he realized what he'd just said. "The TOPIC! The TOPIC never came up."

Chad didn't even chuckle -- he just sat quietly, taking in this new information.

"And Ryan never looked at me when I had costume changes," Troy continued. "It was like the costumes on the rack or the hat on his head would suddenly become intensely interesting every time I went to change clothes. I didn't even catch on at first -- I mean, I just assumed he was obsessing about theatre stuff. But then, during this one performance, Gabriella didn't have time to go back to her dressing room and had to make a costume change backstage in front of everybody."

Chad's mind turned away from Ryan long enough to take in this news. "Dude, you watched Gabriella strip?!"

Troy's face turned red. "That's what I'm saying -- I COULDN'T. I just couldn't look at her. I just stared at the curtains backstage, unable to let my eyes wander over in her direction." Laughing, he admitted, "Okay, maybe they wandered a LITTLE. But I just was suddenly so embarrassed -- like I didn't want to embarrass HER by looking, you know? So then I figured out that Ryan had been doing the same thing, and I just kinda put two and two together."

Chad nodded. He couldn't believe that Troy had figured out that Ryan was gay when Chad himself had been so totally clueless.

And he couldn't believe that Troy had never told him about Gabriella changing clothes in front of him.

And he couldn't believe that Troy still acted envious whenever Gabriella hung out with Ryan.

"Wait a minute!" Chad said, calling his friend on it. "Dude, if you've known about Ryan all this time, why do you get so jealous when Gabriella snuggles with him?"

Troy shrugged sheepishly, "She's my girl, you know. I don't want to share her, even with Ryan. I mean, if she's gonna be all touchy-feely with a guy, I want that guy to be ME." Troy laughed. "And I admit, the timing kinda threw me. When he suddenly became Gabi's friend at the same time Sharpay was focusing on me, I had to wonder if I'd been wrong, if the Evanses were actually conspiring together to split us up so they could each get what they wanted." Troy laughed. "But clearly that wasn't the case."

"Clearly," Chad agreed. "But does Gabi know?"

"About Ryan?" Troy shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, it doesn't really matter, does it? Ryan's her friend -- she likes him for who he is. I don't think it would really matter to her if he's gay or not."

'It may not matter to her,' Chad thought, 'but it certainly matters to me.'

'Because now I know he's gay, and HE knows I'm attracted to him, so our whole friendship has changed.'

'But has it really?' Chad wondered. After all, Chad had become friends with Ryan because he was competitive and fun and maybe a bit too smug for his own good sometimes.

In short, he was exactly like Chad.

And none of that had changed.

Only Chad had changed.

He still liked all that stuff about Ryan. But he also liked the way Ryan's hips gyrated hypnotically when he danced. And the way Ryan felt in his arms during their dance lessons. And the way Ryan's lips had felt pressed against his. And the way...

"Dude, you can roll down the window if you're too hot," Troy offered, adding, "Sorry the A/C doesn't work."

Chad realized his face was flushed -- maybe some cool air WOULD help. He quickly rolled down the window and stuck his face out into the wind, closing his eyes to fully experience it.

Then he heard Troy laughing, and Chad turned to look at his friend.

"Dude, your hair," Troy chuckled.

Without thinking, Chad stuck out his tongue and playfully started panting like a dog, causing Troy to laugh even more.

Which made Chad happy. Because he realized that, while his feelings for Ryan had changed, his feelings for his best friend hadn't. He and Troy were still best buds, practically brothers, just like they had been for most of their lives. And though their circle of friends had expanded over the past few months, it ultimately hadn't changed their friendship OR what they meant to each other.

Chad found comfort in that. It was nice to know that he could still rely on Troy's friendship even as everything else in their lives seemed to be changing.

"So," Troy said, glancing over at the newspaper that lay folded on the seat between them. "Where to next?"

Chad picked up the newspaper half-heartedly, trying to focus on the circled want-ads in front of him. But his heart just wasn't in it anymore. Sure, he still wanted a car -- but he didn't need one today.

Instead, what he needed was to just hang out with his best friend, something he hadn't done in way too long.

And after two days of feeling like his entire world had suddenly turned upside-down, he just needed to play some hoops with his "brother", to remind himself that he was still just Chad Danforth: jock, comedian, loyal friend.

He'd just start leaving off the "ladies' man" part of his self-proclaimed title.

"I'm not gonna find a car today," Chad said. "Let's just get some lunch and go back to your place."

Troy grinned, glancing over at his friend. "Hoops?" he asked hopefully.

Chad nodded. "Definitely. I need to make up for that pathetic game I played against the Redhawks the other night."

Troy laughed. "No kidding! What was up with you?!"

Chad shrugged.

"Nothing that's gonna prevent me from whooping your ass today."

**END OF PART 5**


	6. Chapter 6

**Fever (part 6 of 6)**

'This is so stupid. He's not gonna show.'

Ryan anxiously wrung his hands as he walked back and forth outside the yoga studio, attempting to calm his thoughts. He had tried sitting on the floor and doing some breathing exercises, but he had too much nervous energy to stay still for long. So now he paced like an expectant father in some old movie, looking up eagerly at every footfall that sounded on the tiled floors.

'Ryan Evans, you're SUCH an idiot,' he chided himself. 'He's been avoiding you since Thursday night. What did you think – that he'd just show up for dance lessons like nothing happened? Or that we'd simply pick up where we left off?'

Ryan sighed wearily, disappointed in himself for getting his hopes up.

A quick glance at his wristwatch told him it was 5:28 – almost half an hour past the appointed start time.

'I never should have let Gabi talk me into this.'

But she'd been so persuasive, insisting that, no matter what had happened between them last Thursday, he and Chad were still friends, and one kiss wasn't going to change that.

But Gabriella hadn't been there-- she hadn't seen the look of shock on Chad's face after Ryan had overstepped all friendship boundaries. Or heard the coldness in Chad's voice in the dining room that night.

She also hadn't seen how Chad had looked without his shirt on. Or felt the softness of Chad's lips pressed against his. Or sensed the way Chad had wanted him as he pulled Ryan close.

But clearly Chad didn't want him now. He couldn't even be bothered to call Ryan and say that he was canceling.

Feeling like a fool, Ryan gathered his belongings – the boombox, the water bottles, the CDs – and started down the hallway to head back towards the pool area.

'Gabriella should just be coming off her shift,' Ryan realized. 'Maybe she'll join me to commiserate over coffee.'

Suddenly, a voice called out loudly from the other side of the building. "Evans! YO, EVANS! Wait up!"

Ryan wondered if the voice was all in his head, a product of his imagination. However, thundering footsteps accompanied the vociferous calls, and Ryan instantly recognized the sound of thick rubber-soled sneakers running on expensive Spanish tile. He looked over his shoulder to see Chad hurrying down the hallway towards him, still wearing his waiter's uniform.

'He's here!' Ryan couldn't believe it was really him. But as he watched the athlete move, sprinting towards him, Ryan knew he wasn't imagining it. 'God, he looks good.'

"Sorry I'm late," Chad panted, skidding to a halt in front of Ryan. "I was just about to clock out when Fulton snagged me to bus dishes in the banquet room." He rolled his eyes as he peeled off his white linen apron and blue cotton shirt, which were both covered in brightly-hued food stains.

"Kids' birthday party," he chuckled, untucking his undershirt from his slacks as he flung his shed work clothes over his shoulder. "Believe me, I would've much rather been here."

But Ryan hadn't really paid attention to the explanation. What did it matter where Chad had been, as long as he was here now?

Ryan smiled warmly. "Hey, it's okay."

"So...are we still on?" Chad raised his eyebrows questioningly.

Ryan knew that Chad was only talking about the dance lesson, but the question made his heart fly. Shrugging coolly, not wanting to let on that he was doing backflips in his mind, Ryan replied, "Sure...if you still wanna."

"'Course I do!" Chad laughed. "But...shouldn't we be heading back that way?" He nodded his head back toward the yoga studio.

Ryan shook his head. Under ordinary circumstances, he would've told Chad in advance that the lesson had been moved to a new room -- but these were HARDLY "ordinary circumstances."

"Well...uh...actually, my mom was able to get us another room."

Chad looked at him blankly.

"Unless you'd rather bake?"

Chad's eyes widened as realization dawned. "OH. Oh yeah, the beefcake yoga."

Ryan laughed at the strange turn of phrase. "What?"

"Isn't that what it was called? Beefcake yoga?"

"No, you dork!" Ryan snorted, "It's BIKRAM yoga."

Chad shrugged. "Whatever, dude. You say bikram, I say beefcake."

Without even thinking, Ryan sang out brightly, "Let's call the whole thing off!"

Again, Chad gave him a blank look. "Huh?"

"Never mind," Ryan blushed, ducking his head. "It's just a song."

"So...," Chad began, "...should we go?"

"Oh, right, the room! This way!" Ryan said, turning on his heel. "Follow me!"

Ryan walked down the hallway, Chad following a few paces behind. Neither of them spoke, but Ryan's thoughts spoke enough for both of them:

'What is he doing here? Does he really want to go on with dance lessons? Is he just going to pretend nothing happened? Can I even pretend that? GOD, he looks good. Is he still freaked out? Or pissed off? He doesn't seem pissed off. Maybe he's just pretending that everything's okay so he can lull me into a false sense of security and kick my ass later.'

'Or maybe he's suddenly realized that he's queer and he's madly in love with me.'

'Or maybe he came to tell me that I've been elected king of the world!' Ryan thought with a snort, which he prayed Chad didn't hear.

Somewhere amidst the turmoil, Ryan managed to unlock the correct door and open it, saying, "Here it is," as he flicked on the light switch.

The room was much smaller than the yoga studio. "More intimate" was the phrase his mother had used, not knowing that this was a twist of the knife to Ryan. He wasn't even sure if he and Chad could still be FRIENDS, let alone anything more.

But her phrase was accurate: the room was much cozier than the large yoga studio, but it was still big enough for a decent dance lesson.

If there was actually going to BE a dance lesson.

As Chad stepped into the room, he closed the door behind him, locking it. Ryan wasn't sure whether this was a good sign or a bad one. If by some miracle Chad wanted to resume where they'd left off last week, then a locked door was definitely a good idea -- the last thing they'd want was for someone to barge in on them mid-kiss.

But if instead Chad wanted to kick his ass, to "smear the queer" as they said in gym class, a locked door would also be important.

However, Chad didn't seem to be interested in doing either of those things.

"This is MUCH cooler than the 'Beefcake' yoga studio," Chad said, smiling at Ryan as he purposely used the wrong word. "I can't believe how hot it was in there last week."

Ryan closed his eyes for a moment, trying to steel himself for what he was about to do. Chad had opened the door, and Ryan needed to step through it, because he didn't know if he'd get another chance. Turning towards Chad, he began, "About last week--"

"Don't!" Chad held up his hands, causing both Ryan's voice and his hopes to fade. "I can't...let's just dance, okay?"

"Okay," Ryan managed to squeak as he turned his back to Chad, plugging in the boombox and getting a CD out.

'So that's it," Ryan thought as he mindlessly looked at the track list. 'He's only interested in the dance lessons and nothing more.'

Heartbroken, Ryan tried to imagine what his mom might say to cheer him up. Or what Gabi might say. No doubt it would be something like, "At least you still get to see him twice a week."

But seeing him twice a week, watching him dance, being held in his arms – what good was all that if there was no hope for anything more?

"Let's just dance." Isn't that what Chad had said?

He couldn't have been clearer than that.

But maybe clarity was a good thing. At least now Ryan knew the truth. Maybe he would have preferred NOT knowing, but it was better than continuing to make a fool of both himself and Chad, wasn't it?

Ryan took some consolation in the fact that Chad was still willing to dance. Maybe he'd still want to remain friends, too. Until last Thursday, hadn't they only been friends anyway? Maybe they could forget about the kiss and just go back to how they'd been before.

However, as much as he hoped otherwise, Ryan knew that they could never go back to the way things were before. Back then, at least he'd had a little hope -- maybe the jokes and the teasing were Chad's adorably awkward way of flirting. Maybe those lingering glances meant something. Maybe...

'Maybe I've just been a fool.'

Chad had said it: "Let's just dance." Chad wanted dance lessons. That was all this was.

That was all this would ever be.

'Oh well. The show must go on.'

Ryan heard Chad clear his throat uncomfortably behind him and realized he had been lingering over the CD track listing for far too long.

"Uh...I'm just trying to figure out what we should work on today," Ryan said quickly, hoping to explain the delay. "Do you...have a preference?"

Chad shrugged. "Nothing slow," he said.

Ryan breathed a sigh of relief -- at least he wouldn't have to suffer the torture of being held close in Chad's arms.

Considering what faster dances might be good, Ryan began, "How about--"

"And no salsa!!!" Chad shouted out quickly. Then, under his breath, he added almost to himself, "Definitely no salsa."

'No salsa?' Ryan puzzled over Chad's outburst. 'Since when?' Chad always seemed to have fun with it before.

Why would Chad object to it now? It wasn't as if salsa was a particularly close dance -- you had to leave quite a bit of room between you and your partner so that you could move your hips to the rhythm. What would Chad possibly find wrong with that?

"Okay," Ryan said, deliberating his remaining options. "No slow dancing...no salsa..."

"Like, isn't there something kinda...I dunno...in-between?" Chad asked.

'Waltz? No. Tango? DEFINITELY not. Polka? GOD, no. Paso doble? No.'

"Um...how about cha cha?" Ryan finally asked hesitantly.

Chad chewed his bottom lip, considering the suggestion. "I dunno..."

Since Chad seemed incapable of making a decision, Ryan realized that he had to resort to desperate measures or they would NEVER get started. "Or we could start on line dancing -- maybe the achy breaky?"

"Dude, no country!" Chad said hastily, adding, "Cha cha is fine."

Ryan nodded in acknowledgement, secretly pleased that his tactic had worked. "Cha cha is easy. It can even be done almost like a line dance -- you don't really have to be in ballroom position. It's the feet that are important. And you're good at footwork, so you should have no problems."

"Okay, show me."

"Just watch my feet." Ryan stood next to Chad, calling out the steps as he moved: "Step-step-cha-cha-cha. Back-step-cha-cha-cha. Left-step-cha-cha-cha. Right-step-cha-cha-cha." He stopped. "Got it?"

Chad nodded. "I think so."

"Are you ready to try it?"

Chad shook his head. "Let me see you do it a couple more times."

Ryan nodded, stepping off once again. "It's easy," he lectured as he danced. "Kind of like the foxtrot."

Suddenly remembering that slow, sultry foxtrot when Chad had kissed him, Ryan stumbled over his words. "Um...that is...I mean...instead of slow-slow-quick-quick-slow...um...it's more like slow-slow-quick-quick-quick...uh...cha-cha-cha."

Luckily, Ryan's feet didn't falter, and Chad was so focused on them that he didn't even notice Ryan's verbal floundering.

Ryan stopped. "Are you ready to try it?"

Chad nodded, looking up from Ryan's feet. "Yeah, I think so."

"A few times without music, to start?"

"Yeah. Yeah, just until I get the rhythm down."

"Okay," Ryan said, "I'll count it off. And if you get lost, just follow me. Five, six, seven, eight!"

Chad stepped off confidently alongside Ryan as the blond boy called out the steps. Chad fumbled a bit at first, but after a couple of cycles of the same rhythmic pattern, he was soon moving expertly.

"You got it!" Ryan cheered happily, so caught up in the thrill of teaching that he momentarily forgot about the awkwardness between them. "Now let's add some music to the mix."

He sprinted over to the boombox and started the CD. A lazy Latin rhythm filled the room.

Instantly, Chad broke into a huge grin. "Hey, I know this song. It's Santana, right?"

Ryan nodded in time to the beat as he walked back over to Chad. "Yep."

"Not bad, Evans," Chad said. "I might just have to re-evaluate my opinion of your taste in music," he teased, playfully pulling Ryan's hat down over his eyes.

"That's funny," Ryan said, removing his hat and replacing it at just the right angle. "I was just about to say the same thing about you."

Chad laughed. "Oh, and speaking of music, you have to come back to the kitchen with me after our lesson so I can give you your CD."

"CD?"

Ryan's heart skipped a beat. Chad had actually MADE a mix CD?

"Yeah, your mix CD," Chad said. "Don't tell me you forgot."

Ryan shook his head. "I remembered."

He'd not only "remembered" -- he'd agonized over the entire mix CD question for the past few days, unsure whether he should even bother to do it. Though he and Chad had promised to make music mixes for each other, that was before the kiss, before everything went to hell.

In the end, Gabriella had convinced him to just go ahead and make the CD for Chad. "What can it hurt?" she'd asked.

But simply choosing songs that Chad might like, knowing that he may never hear them, had been painful.

As their friendship had grown over the past several weeks, Ryan had longed to share some of his music with Chad, hoping it would bring them even closer; but now, each song was a bitter reminder of what he might have lost.

"So where is it?" Chad demanded, looking over at the boombox that was still blaring "Oye Como Va."

Ryan wasn't sure what to say. He had compiled a CD of showtunes for Chad, as promised. But he hadn't yet put together "the total package," as Sharpay called it -- with an illustrated label, track list, and an explanation for each song -- because he wasn't even sure if he would have the chance to give it to him.

However, Ryan HAD burned the songs onto a CD for himself so that he could listen to them in his car. And since he'd figured that Chad would probably never hear it, Ryan had even included an extra song from his latest Broadway obsession, i _Spring Awakening /i _-- "Totally Fucked" just seemed to sum up how he felt about the entire Chad situation.

Now Chad was asking for the CD, and Ryan didn't know what to say.

"I...uh...," Ryan began awkwardly.

"I KNEW it!" Chad accused good-naturedly. "You DID forget."

Chad's smug statement brought Ryan's competitive nature bubbling to the surface. "No, I didn't! It's in my car right now -- you want me to go get it?"

"No, it's okay, dude," Chad smiled, clearly pleased. "You can get it for me later. After all," he teased, making a face, "I'm not really in any rush to listen to SHOWTUNES."

"I'm telling you, you'll LOVE these," Ryan said eagerly, hoping to persuade his friend to give them a chance. "The songs are all different styles and types of music, but they're ALL originally from shows -- Broadway musicals, movie musicals, even an opera."

"Opera?!" Chad looked truly horrified. "I didn't sign up for opera!"

"But it's an AWESOME song!" Ryan insisted. "In fact, it took me forever to figure out which version to put on the mix because I have so many. 'Summertime' has been recorded in every musical style, from jazz to punk rock. And did you know that it ranks right up there with 'Yesterday' by the Beatles as the most covered song of all time?"

Chad was grinning. "You sound like Taylor," he teased. "She's always spouting off random facts about everything, like a walking-talking Wikipedia."

Ryan smiled at the comment -- it wasn't every day he was compared to one of the smartest girls in school.

"Oh, speaking of Taylor," Chad continued, "just in case you were thinking about going to see that new action film i _Orange Alert /i _, don't bother -- we went to see it at the drive-in on Friday night and it SUCKED."

'We? He took Taylor to the drive-in? On FRIDAY? The day after I...after we...'

Ryan nodded, feigning interest as Chad told him all about the movie, but he barely heard a word as he berated himself.

'Mom told me not to get my hopes up! She thought it was a bad sign from the beginning that Chad had a girlfriend.'

"And then, there was this dog! This German Shepherd that could, like, jump 50 feet or something! Of course, ALWAYS in slo-mo," Chad cheerfully chattered on.

'How could I have ever thought he'd be interested in me?' Ryan thought miserably.

Then, as it usually did when Ryan's self esteem faltered to dangerously low levels, the infamous Evans resolve kicked in.

'Maybe because he KISSED me?' Ryan reminded himself. 'I didn't make the first move, he did! True, I may have been flirting shamelessly, but HE kissed ME first.'

'But WHY?' Ryan wondered. 'If he's not interested, if he's got a girlfriend, why do that? Just to mess with my head? A friend wouldn't do that. And we're friends, aren't we?'

Ryan noticed that the room was suddenly quiet. Chad had finished his plot summary of the latest big-budget Hollywood debacle right as the song had ended, and now the CD player whirred softly as it cycled back to start the track again.

Chad laughed. "Dude, we talked through the entire song! Maybe we should get back to dancing?"

Ryan nodded, pushing aside his thoughts of the kiss as the song began again. Without thinking, he began moving to the beat, tapping out the bongo rhythm on his thigh. As the guitar picked up the melody, Ryan pointed out, "So do you hear the rhythm? 1-2-cha-cha-cha, 1-2-cha-cha-cha."

Chad nodded, bobbing his head in time to the drums. "Yeah. Yeah, I can hear it!" Without even being instructed, Chad began dancing to the music.

Ryan smiled, watching his pupil. His footwork was precise.

But while Chad was technically doing everything correctly, he wasn't really DANCING. He was almost marching in place, like a Wildcat band member during a halftime show.

"You're doing great," Ryan encouraged, not wanting to sound too critical, "but you don't look like you're having much fun."

"Fun?" Chad asked hesitantly, as if the thought had never occurred to him.

Ryan laughed. "That's what dancing is all about," he said, falling into step next to Chad, shimmying to the music. "It's supposed to be fun, or else why do it?" Ryan started adding in some spins, moving his hips and snapping his fingers to the rhythm, trying to demonstrate what fun could be had with the simple steps.

However, Chad seemed to have totally lost the rhythm and was now stumbling over his own feet, as if his concentration had been broken.

"C'mon," Ryan said, stepping in front of Chad and taking his hands. "Don't forget what you've learned -- you totally have the steps down. Now you just need to add in--"

"The fun?" Chad finished for him, grinning at his teacher as he seemed to regain his sense of rhythm.

"Exactly," Ryan said, pleased to see that Chad was getting into it. "And don't be afraid to change things up," he added, demonstrating a turn, which his student immediately mimicked.

"You can also do this in ballroom position," he continued, putting his hand on Chad's shoulder without thinking.

After weeks of dancing together, Chad's hand automatically moved to Ryan's back, bringing them into the proper placement.

It was the first time Ryan had been in Chad's arms since the kiss, and his pulse quickened at the close contact. 'Let's just dance,' he reminded himself, but his mind was reeling and he momentarily stumbled.

Feeling suddenly flustered and embarrassed, Ryan stared down at his feet, willing himself to forget about Chad's gentle but strong hold and to concentrate on his steps instead.

"Hey, Teach," Chad said after a moment, "what'd you tell ME about staring at my feet?"

Ryan looked up, chagrined, to meet Chad's laughing eyes.

"That's better," Chad said, grinning.

'No it's not,' Ryan thought. Looking up into Chad's face, he was reminded just how much he had grown to like the other boy, and how those feelings could never go anywhere. It was torture to be this close to him and not--

Suddenly Chad's lips were on his.

Surprised as he was, Ryan made a conscious effort not to pull away, wanting it to last as long as possible. Lost in the kiss, he didn't even notice that they'd stopped dancing until Chad wrapped his other arm around him, knocking Ryan's hat askew as he pulled him closer into the embrace. Ryan followed suit, his arms encircling Chad's shoulders as the kiss deepened.

Melting into Chad as they kissed, Ryan felt it again -- that heat, that urgent need. Ryan longed to press closer, to touch, to taste. He simply couldn't get close enough to the other boy.

But somewhere amidst the sea of raging hormones, a clarion call of rational thought sounded:

'Don't fuck this up!'

The disappointments of the last few days came rushing back to his mind, and he momentarily hesitated.

Chad must've sensed Ryan's trepidation, for he instantly pulled away. Chad's eyes searched Ryan's face, looking for some sort of answer, some sign that everything was okay.

Ryan didn't say a thing, but Chad must've somehow perceived his approval for he instantly resumed the kiss.

This time, Ryan just let go, allowing himself to fully experience the sensations without anticipating what might come next. He simply let himself enjoy where he was -- the taste of Chad's lips, the feel of Chad's arms, the heat of Chad's body.

This was heaven.

As their lips parted, Ryan opened his eyes to find Chad gazing at him awestruck. They stood there for a moment, still in each other's arms, not wanting to break the spell.

Finally, Chad found his voice. "Wow! That was--"

"Incredible?" Ryan finished hopefully.

Chad smiled. "I was gonna say 'hot'."

Ryan laughed. "Yeah -- that too!"

The two boys continued to stand in each other's arms, smiling at each other, basking in the afterglow.

But slowly, Ryan began to realize how uncomfortably close their faces were. He relaxed his grip on Chad's shoulders, unconsciously pulling his head back to a more comfortable distance.

Chad sensed the movement and immediately loosened his hold, taking half a step back but not letting go as he mumbled, "Oh, sorry."

"'S okay," Ryan mumbled back. He ducked his head, embarrassed.

The moment of intimacy had now passed, leaving only awkwardness in its wake.

Ryan didn't know what to do now. Should he say something? Walk away? Start dancing? Kiss Chad again? None of these options felt right, but neither did just standing there in Chad's arms, saying nothing.

Luckily, it was Chad who made the next move.

"I mean it," Chad said, looking meaningfully into Ryan's eyes. "I'm really sorry."

A wave of panic washed over Ryan -- Chad was sorry they'd kissed?!

Chad must've seen the hurt look in Ryan's eyes for he quickly blurted out, "I'm not sorry about the KISS!" He shook his head, mumbling almost to himself, "DEFINITELY not sorry about that."

'Than what?' Ryan wondered, afraid to ask aloud.

Chad looked down sheepishly as he continued, "I'm sorry about last week -- about the way I treated you. Or DIDN'T treat you, since I've basically been avoiding you for days. But I just needed some time, you know...to figure stuff out. I mean, we KISSED! And before I could even figure out what had happened, I immediately got dragged off to that stupid basketball game, and the next thing I knew, I was in the dining room being forced to call you 'Mr. Evans'."

Remembering the disastrous dinner, Ryan suddenly found his voice, blurting out, "I just want you to know that I didn't tell my mother ANYTHING! OR Sharpay!"

Of course, Gabriella had dragged every sordid detail out of him the next day, but Chad didn't need to know that right now.

Chad laughed. "Dude, I was so out of it that night, I barely remember waiting on you. I just...I needed some time...to figure out how to deal, you know?"

Ryan nodded, though he didn't really understand. There was never anything for Ryan to figure out. He'd already known he liked Chad and desperately wanted him -- the kiss last week had only confirmed this.

But he realized that things were probably different for Chad. For although Ryan frequently fantasized about kissing guys, he guessed that Chad had never even THOUGHT about it until it happened. And if that was the case, it probably would've taken a lot of soul searching. Especially since Chad had a girlfriend and...

"Taylor!" Ryan blurted out, regretting it the moment he heard his own voice. Ryan blushed and ducked his head, ashamed for having brought her up.

But Chad put his hand on Ryan's chin and gently raised his face so they could look each other in the eye.

"Taylor's not my girlfriend anymore," Chad said simply. "We're just friends."

Chad smiled, affectionately pulling Ryan's hat back into place but saying nothing more.

Ryan suddenly felt better. He didn't really know exactly where he and Chad stood at the moment, but he guessed that they might be standing a lot closer in the future.

As for now, Chad stepped back from the embrace, dropping his hands to his sides.

Ryan stepped back as well, noticing how cold it seemed without Chad's body so near.

"But I did promise to take Taylor dancing," Chad admitted. "So we'd best get back to this dance lesson because I don't want to embarrass her."

Ryan smiled, glad the awkwardness had passed for now.

"Well, Mr. Danforth," Ryan began in his teacher voice, "you'll be needing a lot more lessons if you keep insisting on taking these 'dance breaks.'"

"Mmmm ...'dance breaks' -- I like the sound of that." Chad winked at Ryan, saying, "Perhaps we'll just have to start meeting more than twice a week."

"I'm available 24/7," Ryan commented coyly.

"I'll have to remember that," Chad grinned. "So...shall we get back to dancing?"

Ryan nodded, suddenly remembering that "Fever" was also on this CD.

"What do you say we start by reviewing the foxtrot?"

**THE END**


End file.
